


leave us alone 'cause we don't need your policies

by mysoulrunswithwolves



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Christmas fic, F/M, Ghost!Kuroo, Kuroo is the one that dies, Lawyer!Oikawa, M/M, Porn With Plot, Shower Sex, brief appearances by kenma and akaashi, everyone else is safe, i promise at some point bokuto will appear and say something, just so much sex really, so the rating went up because my fingers slipped and you got 2k of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-12 08:44:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9064648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysoulrunswithwolves/pseuds/mysoulrunswithwolves
Summary: Tetsurou marches through the snow towards the inn. As he stands and watches from afar, a figure appears on the front porch of the inn.“Kenma,” he breathes into the cold winter air. Kenma’s lone figure is soon joined by another that Tetsurou recognizes. He watches as Akaashi pulls Kenma into his chest, cradles his head tenderly. His stomach sinks and there’s an awful twisting sensation in between his ribs as he watches his fiancé in the arms of someone else.Tetsurou starts forward, moving toward the light and warmth of the inn when he’s struck from behind.Tetsurou falls back into the snow, a final breath escaping into the chill of the air as the snow around his head turns crimson.





	1. creaking doors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KittenSmitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittenSmitten/gifts).



> This is a ghost fic that takes place around Christmas...  
> I was feeling festive, okay?
> 
> I hope you enjoy this fic full of rarepairs

_1924_

Tetsurou marches through the snow towards the inn. As he stands and watches from afar, a figure appears on the front porch of the inn.

“Kenma,” he breathes into the cold winter air. Kenma’s lone figure is soon joined by another that Tetsurou recognizes. He watches as Akaashi pulls Kenma into his chest, cradles his head tenderly. His stomach sinks and there’s an awful twisting sensation in between his ribs as he watches his fiancé in the arms of someone else.

Tetsurou starts forward, moving toward the light and warmth of the inn when he’s struck from behind.

Tetsurou falls back into the snow, a final breath escaping into the chill of the air as the snow around his head turns crimson.

***

_Present Day_

 

“Oikawa, you’re amazing and wonderful, and so extremely talented.”

Tooru smiles faintly at the man sitting across from him as Kageyama takes his hand.

“I knew the moment we met that the man that found you would be extremely lucky,” Kageyama continues.

“Um,” Tooru says, a sense of dread spreading through him. This sounds an awful lot like something he doesn’t want to hear.

“Oikawa, that man just isn’t me,” and Kageyama looks so distraught as he forces the words out. “You’re so smart and capable and I know you’re capable of love but I’m not the man who is going to bring that out in you.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” Tooru asks, leaning forward and pulling his hand out of Kageyama’s.

“I am,” Kageyama says, taking an awkward sip of his wine.

“Oh thank goodness,” Tooru sighs, feeling giddy with the relief that this is returning to familiar territory for him. “I thought you were about to propose to me.”

“What? No. Look, Oikawa you’re an amazing lawyer and you’re so important, but if you really loved me you would make me a priority and you just haven’t.”

“You’re super right,” Tooru says, nodding and taking a bite out of a roll.

“I, what?”

“And you’ve gotten tired of trying to love someone who isn’t yet capable of love.”

“I never said that.”

“No, you didn’t, Iwaizumi did.” Tooru takes a sip of his water. “Yaku called me his phantom boy, which was cute until it wasn’t. Oh, and the best was when Yahaba told me I needed to go to love boot camp because of my childhood. Crazy right?”

“You’ve heard this before.” The way Kageyama says it isn’t a question.

“Yeah, lots. But I’m not going to pretend to feel something that’s not there.”

Kageyama looks at him with a dumbstruck look.

“Are you going to finish that?” Tooru asks, pulling Kageyama’s cheesecake toward him and taking a bite, not bothering to wait for an answer.

***

Tooru barely glances up when the file hits the top of his desk.

“New case coming in,” Daichi says, hands in his pockets.

“So close to the holidays?”

“The last surviving member of the Kuroo family died and they need an executor for the estate,” Daichi says, standing in front of Tooru’s desk. “I would do it, but I’ve had that vacation to the Bahamas planned with Ennoshita for months now. It’s a simple execution of the will. They just need the property sold before the end of the year, in three weeks.”

“Well you know I never have Christmas plans.”

“That’s why I love you. You’ll need to go down there and have someone appraise the last bit of property that belongs to the family.”

“Oh?”

“It’s an inn. They’ve tried to have it appraised twice already since Kuroo died, but it’s never happened.”

“Why not?” Tooru asks, flipping through the file Daichi handed him.

“Well, they say it’s haunted.”

Tooru’s fingers freeze. “Did you say haunted?”

“Silly right? Apparently, it has been for years. Either way, it’s a pain and I need you to get this handled.”

“I’m on it!” Tooru says with perhaps a bit too much excitement. Ghosts are his _jam_.

“Excellent, I knew I could count on you.”

***

Tooru pulls up to the _Mistletoe Inn_ and can’t see any reason why it would be haunted. It’s an old plantation style home, large and sprawling, and it looks cheery enough. He steps out of his Jeep and looks around, taking in the surrounding forest and the snow-covered landscape. It’s really quite beautiful.

A man comes shooting out the front doors of the inn, sprinting for his car with his arms stuffed full of files. Tooru recognizes the appraiser he’d scheduled to meet with. “Hey, I’m glad you could...”

He trails off as the appraiser jumps into his car and drives away as fast as he can. Tooru sighs. It’s no surprise really, since the inn is supposed to be haunted, but it makes his job harder.

He shrugs it off and walks up to the front doors of the inn. One is standing ajar and Tooru walks in cautiously. It’s beautiful inside. All wood floors and a grand staircase in the entry way. The parlor off to the side of the hallway is quaint and homey feeling, what you’d expect from an inn that’s been around since the 1920s.

It’s also completely empty, which Tooru finds strange given the holiday season.

“Can I help you?”

Tooru jumps and spins around from where he was by the mantle, admiring a picture of a handsome man with a tangled head of curls. “Hi yes I’m with the Sawamura and Azumane firm? I’m here to help get this inn appraised and sold by the end of the year. I’m sorry for coming in unannounced, the door was open.”

“Actually, it wasn’t. I’m just about to close the inn until the new year.”

“What?” Tooru asks, sizing him up for the first time. He’s delicate, all fine bones and delicate features. He’s actually quite stunning in a fragile looking way. He looks quite young, about Tooru’s own age, but his hair is already a soft silver and there are soft lines at the corners of his eyes, indicating a tendency towards smiling and laughing. He’s quite refreshing. “Why are you closing the inn during what I would assume is your busy season?”

“Tradition,” Mr. Refreshing says.

“What kind of tradition requires you to shut down during the busy season?”

Refreshing shrugs. “It’s just how things are done.”

“Okay,” he says, dragging out the word. “Regardless, I need to appraise this inn so that we can help you get it sold before you get hit with the taxes.”

“Well I’m afraid your appraiser has just run out and is unlikely to ever return.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because of the ghost.”

Tooru tilts his head. “The ghost?” He doesn’t know about the way Refreshing just says it like it’s something he should already know. Tooru doesn’t like being out of the loop.

“Yes, I’m afraid Tetsurou chased him off. While he’s never actually hurt anyone, he does assert himself from time to time.”

“Tetsurou huh?” Tooru huffs, glancing around as if this ghost will just appear. “You’re on a first-name basis with it?”

There’s a loud thump from upstairs and they both look up at the ceiling in tandem. “Sorry Tetsu-chan~!” Tooru shouts at the ceiling.

“I’ve worked here for a while. Tetsurou has owned this inn for a long time and he doesn’t take very kindly to strangers sometimes.”

“And you are?”

“Sugawara Koushi,” he says with a gentle laugh. “You can call me Suga, though.”

“Okay Suga, surely there has to be an appraiser around here somewhere who isn’t deterred by a ghost story.” There’s another thump above them but Tooru presses on. “I’ll just stay the night and try again tomorrow.”

“Oh, I’m afraid that won’t work,” says Suga with a firm shake of his head. “Like I said, we’re closing until the new year. I’m leaving within the hour and the rest of the staff has already gone.”

“It’s not a problem,” Tooru says, pulling the keys out of his pocket. “I have the keys. I’ll be fine here for one night and I’ve never been afraid of ghosts so.”

Suga gives in surprisingly quickly and shrugs. “Suit yourself. I’ll be checking in from time to time and I’ll leave my phone number on a note in the kitchen should you need anything.”

“Thanks,” Tooru says, giving him the broadest smile he can manage.

 

Once Suga leaves, Tooru calls Daichi to tell him about the snag in the appraisal and how it might take an extra day or two. He sets the alarm for the inn as he’s finishing up the call before heading upstairs to one of the rooms. The bed is large and soft, and he quickly changes out of his suit and tie and into a soft pair of sweats and a large sweater so that he can crawl between the sheets.

He’s almost asleep when a door downstairs slams shut. Tooru jolts up and flips on the light, hearing footsteps walking around. His bedroom door swings open on creaky hinges. He manages to ease his way out of bed, grabbing his phone and using the light to guide his way downstairs quietly.

He curves around the stairs and walks slowly down the hall.

“You’re trespassing,” says a low, deep voice behind him.

Tooru whirls around in fright, bumping a wardrobe for coats and causing a vase to topple off the top of it. It lands on Tooru’s head and he has just enough time as he falls to the ground to catch a glimpse of glowing golden eyes looming over him before he passes out cold.

***

When he wakes up it’s with a crick in his neck and a throbbing in his skull. He’s on the couch in the parlor with a large quilt thrown over him. He becomes aware of a piano being played somewhere in the ballroom. Tooru gets up and wanders towards the sound.

He finds the piano tucked into a corner of the dining room. It’s being played by a large, well-built man with truly disastrous hair. Tooru recognizes the tune of _The Twelve Days of Christmas_.

The music stops and the man turns around on the bench. “How’s your head?” He asks, a wry smirk crossing his face.

“Sore.”

“Understandable.”

There’s a pause.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Tooru asks, not sure who he could be.

“It doesn’t matter because you’re going to be leaving in a moment.”

Tooru bristles. “Um, yeah, no. Look, I’ve got a job to do here, and as far as I’m concerned, you’re the one who broke into this place last night. I should call the police.”

The man stands up and walks toward Tooru until they’re standing eye to eye. “Okay, first of all, you’re in _my_ inn.”

“I think you’ll find—”

“Secondly,” he says, cutting across Tooru like he wasn’t even talking. “I don’t like being around other people and I crave solitude, so go ahead and leave.”

Tooru rolls his eyes. “Look, I’m not leaving so you’re just going to have to deal. Besides, this inn belongs to the Kuroo trust so you should leave before I actually call the police.”

The man smirks at him. “Honey, I am the Kuroo trust.”

Tooru starts to feel the pieces fall into place. “What’s your name?”

“Kuroo Tetsurou, owner of the _Mistletoe Inn_.”

Tooru flinches. Suga had said the name of the ghost was Tetsurou, and—Tooru quickly glances at the news article framed on the wall behind the man’s head—yep it’s the same guy.

Tooru swears creatively. “You’re the ghost.”

Kuroo smiles, a slow, easy glide across his lips. “Ding ding ding, we have a winner.”

“Okay wait,” says Tooru. “That news article clearly states that you died in 1924. How are you here in front of me?”

Kuroo sighs. “I don’t have the energy for this.” He turns around and walks away from Tooru, rounding the corner into the kitchen.

Tooru angrily follows, only to find an empty room.

Well, this is annoying.

***

Tooru is seemingly alone in the house for another day until Suga shows up with arms full of food. Sure, doors kept slamming and he was too afraid to fall asleep half the night, but he was also thrilled that he was staying somewhere that had a ghost he could see and talk too.

“Still here?” Suga asks as Tooru helps him unload food into the fridge and cupboards.

“Yep.”

“I’d have thought that Tetsurou would have chased you away by now.”

“I tried,” says Kuroo, and Tooru jumps again and spins around to see Kuroo leaning up against the doorframe, cutting sections of an apple with a knife and eating it methodically. “He wouldn’t leave.”

Suga laughs, and Tooru feels his heart warm at the bright, happy sound. “Looks like you’ve finally met your match, Tetsu.”

Kuroo just grumbles, shoving more apple into his mouth.

“Okay, so what is going on here?” Tooru looks between Suga and Kuroo in confusion. “If you’re a ghost, why can we both see you? And how did you die? Why are you still around?”

Kuroo and Suga look at each other and seem to have a silent conversation with each other. Finally, Kuroo sighs and says, “So we’re telling him?”

Suga turns to face Tooru and begins to talk.

“Kuroo has been around as long as I’ve worked here. We don’t know why, but each year he has twelve days where he’s a living, breathing human again. Once midnight hits on the twenty-fourth of December, he turns back into a ghost nobody can see.”

Tooru feels like this information is at once too much and not enough. He can feel Kuroo’s steady golden eyes on him, measuring his reaction and waiting to see what he will do.

“What are you thinking, Oikawa?” Suga asks, peering up at him from under his grey fringe of hair. Tooru fixates on the small beauty mark under Suga’s left eye, mesmerized.

“Well it’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“That you need to leave me to my solitude?” Kuroo asks sardonically.

“We need to solve your death!”

“No,” says Kuroo, shutting down Tooru faster than a drug deal gone bad. “I don’t even remember it that well, how on earth do you think you can figure it out in twelve days.”

“I’m incredibly determined.”

“Right,” Suga says, interrupting their stare-off. “As much fun as this is, I’ve got things to do in town, so I’m going to head out.”

Neither of them breaks their battle of wills to say goodbye to Suga as he slips out the back door.

“Come on Tetsu-chan~!” Tooru whines loudly. “Let me solve this mystery for you.”

“First, don’t ever call me that again,” he says, ignoring Tooru’s pout. “Second, this is my life that you’re messing with and, dead though I may be, I am _still_ a person with feelings and I don’t want some meddling lawyer digging around in my past.”

Tooru mutters under his breath before saying, “Fine.”

He’ll stop asking Kuroo about his past, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to look for clues around the house.

Kuroo turns and leaves without another word and Tooru sighs, wondering where to start.

***

He’s drawn back to the parlor the next day.

On the fireplace mantle, there are several photos from back around the time when Kuroo died.

There’s a picture that he didn’t see before of a slight, quiet looking man smiling faintly at the camera. His hair is shoulder length and looks light, from what Tooru can tell from the grainy black and white photo. It’s clear that this man, whoever he is, is very pretty; all delicate features and soft lines.

Tooru wonders who he is and why he’s on the fireplace mantle. He gently picks up the picture.

“Put that back,” Kuroo growls from behind him.

“Okay,” shouts Tooru, clutching the photo to his chest and whirling around in fright. “Enough with the ‘scaring Oikawa for fun’ thing, okay?”

Kuroo lets a low chuckle slip past his lips before he can school his expression back into the indifferent glare he’s usually sporting when he’s around Tooru.

“Whatever you say, Jumpy.”

Tooru ignores the jab and points at the man in the picture, looking up at Kuroo through the fringe of his hair to gauge his reaction when he asks, “Who is this?”

Kuroo flinches, just a little, and a tic starts up in his jaw. “Someone I lost a long time ago.”

Tooru just waits, hoping that if Kuroo sees that he’s willing to listen he’ll keep talking. He tries to ignore the way Kuroo’s golden gaze makes him burn from the inside out. It must work because after a moment Kuroo sighs and sits down on one of the overstuffed couches in the parlor.

“His name is Kozume Kenma, and he was my fiancé.”

Tooru nearly drops the picture in shock. Still dazed, he places the picture back in its spot on the mantle and walks over to sit on the other end of the couch. He doesn’t know if the shock is for the way Kuroo starts to talk easily about Kenma or the fact that Kuroo digs men but he wisely shuts up and lets Kuroo talk.

“Kenma and I were supposed to be married two weeks after I died.”

Tooru feels his heart go out to this poor man who died decades ago. “Tetsu-chan I’m so sorry.”

Kuroo shrugs. “I was on my way home to surprise him when I saw him in the arms of another man.” He pauses, runs his fingers through which somehow only makes his hair worse. “That’s the last thing I remember. The next day they found my body in the woods.”

“I’m sure he was devastated.”

Kuroo snorts. “Yeah, maybe.”

“What was the cause of your death?”

Kuroo rubs the back of his neck. “They thought it was just a fall or something, but I have a hard time believing that.”

“Why?”

“Because I was helping my cousin run rum at the time and we worked for some pretty shady men.”

Tooru’s brain screeches to a halt. “I’m sorry, what?”

“The inn was not making as much money as we needed to keep it running, so my cousin—who worked for me—convinced me to bring in some extra money by smuggling rum into the US from Montreal. The inn was Kenma’s favorite place in the world, he wanted to stay there and so I had to do something to keep it running for him.”

“That’s,” Tooru says, pausing to collect his thoughts. “Really sweet of you, in a shady way.”

Kuroo nods before grabbing a book and beginning to read.

Tooru sits back on the couch, mind reeling with all that he’s learned.

 

 

 


	2. warm bars

“So, he can’t even leave the property line?”

Suga shakes his head. “It’s been that way for as long as Tetsurou has been hanging around. He just vanishes and reappears inside the inn if he tries to leave.”

They’re walking along the garden path around the grounds of the inn. Tooru’s boots are leaving fresh prints in the deep snow. Suga’s walking next to him with a soft blue scarf wrapped around him so that only his eyes are visible.

“So, why is he here? Why does he keep coming back once a year twelve days before Christmas for the last nine decades?” Tooru asks, stopping in the middle of the shoveled path.

Suga turns to face him. “I don’t know. He doesn’t like to talk about it, and I’ve been around for the last six times this has happened.” Suga shifts, shivering slightly in the cold. “I pretty much just make sure he has enough food for the duration of his return to the living.”

“Why doesn’t he do anything?” Tooru half shouts into the biting cold of the air around them. “If I was stuck like this I would spend all of my time every year researching until I had figured out why I’m here.”

Suga shrugs. “Tetsurou is stubborn and I think his past really bothers him.”

“Yeah but if he would just talk to me about it then maybe I could help him break the curse!”

“Well,” Suga says, hunches his shoulders against the cold seeping into their bones and contines to walk back toward the inn. “You can always ask.”

 

 

“No.”

“Why not?!” Tooru asks, and he does _not_ stomp his foot. Absolutely does _not_.

Kuroo doesn’t even look away from the book he’s reading. “Because I want you out of here. You and Suga both.”

“Why?”

“I have a limited amount of time to be here and I’d rather not spend it with some uppity lawyer hanging around who doesn’t know when silence is in his best interest.” Kuroo shifts on the window seat he’s on.

Tooru sighs and rests a hand on his hip. “Well, have you ever even tried to figure out what’s going on?”

“For longer than you could possibly imagine.” Kuroo looks up at him through the frames of his square, black-rimmed glasses with a rather formidable glare.

Tooru refuses to back down so easily though, and just shoots back, “Have you ever had somebody try and help you?”

“Yes,” says Kuroo with no small amount of exasperation in his tone. “My cousin and partner in the inn Bokuto. He took over running the inn after I died and we spent many years on the event of my return trying to understand what had happened to me.”

Tooru feels a bit of the wind taken from his sails at this. “Well, that was a long time ago.”

“Say we do figure out what this is, then what?” Kuroo finally closes the book in his hands, finger stuck between the pages to hold his place.

“I don’t know, you go into the light or something.” Tooru starts to pace around the second-floor landing where Kuroo is reading, curled up on the padded window seat in a patch of sun like some giant cat. “All I know is that I need to get this inn appraised and sold off and I can’t do that when I have a ghost wandering around causing doors to creak open at obscene hours of the morning.”

Kuroo just sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

“Don’t you want to move on?” Tooru asks, watching him closely.

“More than you know,” says Kuroo in the quietest whisper.

“Let me help you, then.”

Kuroo sighs deeply again, looks up at Tooru from under his eyelashes. Tooru feels the way those golden eyes cut past muscle and bone right to his heart. “Okay.”

Tooru smiles hugely, making Kuroo pull his knees in to his chest in haste as he sits down on the window seat across from Kuroo. “Tell me everything.”

***

_1924_

 

“Tetsurou, why are you doing this?” Keiji whispers furiously. “Kenma is going to be so upset when he finds out.”

“Oh, and that would be so perfect for you because then you’d be there to comfort him, wouldn’t you,” Tetsurou snaps back, unable to stop the jealously from rising cold and vicious into his tone.

Keiji had found out about the side business he had going on with Bokuto and was asking Tetsurou to stop. He knows that Keiji is just trying to look out for his older brother, but Tetsurou has also seen the longing glances he’s been giving Kenma and he can’t help but snap back.

“You know that I would _never_ —”

“But you want to, don’t you?” Tetsurou asks, and he doesn’t have to look very hard to see the truth in Keiji’s eyes.

“Tetsurou I just want you to be safe. The inn will be able to make it without the rum running you and Bokuto are doing. Just end this nonsense before Kenma finds out. It will crush him.”

Tetsurou can’t stand the way he feels the rightness of Keiji’s words sink into his gut. “I have one last run to make before Christmas, but that will be the last one. I’ll quit after this last run,” he says, and tries not to let the resentment at Keiji’s ability to make perfect sense show through in his tone.

Keiji’s mouth twists in disappointment, but he doesn’t say anything else, so Tetsurou walks away.

He has a trip to pack for.

 

Kenma finds him a few hours later.

“Kuro, do you have to go again?”

Tetsurou turns around from where he’s jamming an extra coat into a small travel bag. Kenma is standing in the door of his bedroom, a nicely pressed suit fitting snugly to his slender frame.

“I’m afraid so, kitten.”

Kenma frowns ever so slightly. “I hate that you’ve gotten tangled up in this rum business.”

Tetsurou’s stomach drops through the floor and he grits his teeth in anger. He’s going to _kill_ Keiji.

“Don’t be mad at Keiji-chan.” Kenma holds up a hand to silence the argument Tetsurou has brimming on the tip of his tongue. “He was right to tell me. What you’re doing is reckless and unnecessary.” Kenma steps into his room, approaching him slowly. “Tetsu, do you have any idea what I would do if you didn’t come back from one of these trips?”

He doesn’t have to know; the pain is already there in Kenma’s wide eyes as he steps into the warmth of Tetsurou’s space. “This is my last trip.” It’s all he can think to say. “I’m done after this. No more.”

Kenma nods once, bravely. “Good,” he manages to choke out before he falls forward to wrap his arms tightly around Tetsurou, rubbing his nose into the vest of Tetsurou’s suit and inhaling his scent. Kenma pulls away to look back up at him. “I love you, Tetsu.”

He reaches up, cradles the delicate line of Kenma’s jaw with his hands and places a soft kiss to Kenma’s lips. “I love you too, Kenma.”

It takes him by surprise when Kenma grabs the lapels of his jacket and pulls Tetsurou against him roughly, deepening the kiss. Tetsurou can feel the edge of desperation in the pace of the kiss, in the way Kenma nips and sucks at his bottom lip.

The kiss is hot and desperate and salty.

Tetsurou pulls away slightly to wipe at the tears falling slowly from the corners of Kenma’s eyes. “I have to go now, kitten.” He places tender kisses to the corners of his eyes, his forehead, the tip of his nose.

Kenma sniffs, tries not to look so visibly upset. It would be cute if it wasn’t breaking Tetsurou’s heart to see him this way. “Promise me you’ll come back.”

Tetsurou smiles down at him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I promise. I’ll be back Christmas eve in time for the annual party. You’ll hardly know I’m gone.”

Kenma sighs shakily. “Oh, I’ll know you’re gone. But if you promise to come back I can manage.”

 

***

_Present Day_

Tooru can’t sleep anymore.

It’s been four days since he arrived at the Mistletoe Inn and he’s ignored seven calls from Daichi. He’s been trying to ignore the early morning sun for a few hours now too, hoping against all odds he’ll actually manage to sleep for a few hours but it’s to no avail. It also doesn’t help that Kuroo won’t stop opening and closing his doors at random, adding to the struggles he has with sleeping.

It doesn’t matter though because he can’t stop thinking about everything that he’s learned from Kruoo.

Kuroo’s cousin and partner is the one who suggested rum running as a way to bring in extra money for the inn. Bokuto had known how much Kuroo needed Kenma, how much he loved him. He suggested that they do it to help keep the inn afloat so that Kenma and Kuroo could continue to live there and not have to sell the inn.

Tooru can’t figure out what went wrong.

It should be easier, more straight forward to understand but it isn’t and Tooru feels more frustrated than ever.

He jolts upright when he sees the door leading into his bathroom slam shut for no reason. Annoyance bubbles up into his throat and he flings the covers off and throws on some clothes for his march down the hall. He’s so done with this whole ‘scare Oikawa out of the inn’ routine Kuroo thinks he’s being so subtle about.

There’s another thump that sounds from the room down the hall and Tooru shoves his feet into some slippers and marches toward the room at the end of the third-floor landing.

He opens the door and bursts in without knocking which is, it turns out, a huge mistake on his part because Kuroo is standing in the middle of the room, shirtless, his shirt hanging limply from his fingers.

“Oh,” Tooru breathes, and tries not to drool from his mouth. He doesn’t know if ghosts can like, go to the gym or not but Kuroo is all hard lines and lithe muscle and Tooru regrets his habit of barging in and thinking later.

“Good morning, Oikawa,” Kuroo says in an even voice. “Can I help you with something?” Tooru feels the weight of his gaze pin him in place. The steady golden eyes and smooth olive skin make the room feel much warmer than it was two seconds ago.

“Um,” is Tooru’s eloquent reply. He can’t look at Kuroo anymore and hope to be able to speak so he casts about, looking for anything to distract him. His eyes fall on another picture of Kenma in Kuroo’s room. This one is of the both of them, standing side by side, Kuroo’s arm wound tightly around Kenma’s shoulders. “This is Kenma, right?” He asks, picking up the picture and inspecting it more closely.

Kuroo sighs deeply and pulls the soft looking cotton shirt over his head. “Listen, I will share all pertinent information with you, as per our agreement, but my room is off limits.” He plucks the picture from Tooru’s slightly limp fingers and places it gently on his bed.

“Fine, then my room is off limits too.”

Kuroo just gives him a confused glance over his shoulder as he begins walking out of his room.

Tooru follows him. “You have got to stop with the door banging. It’s keeping me up at night.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kuroo says, heading downstairs.

“Don’t you ever sleep?” Tooru half shouts, following him down the stairs. He can’t sleep anyway, so maybe now he can get some more answers to his questions.

“I don’t need sleep, I’m a ghost, remember?” The way he says it makes it clear that Tooru should have already realized this.

Tooru rolls his eyes. “Well then we should at least get back to work on this project.”

“Agreed. But first, breakfast.” Kuroo reaches the main floor and walks in the direction of the kitchen.

“Are you ever not hungry?” Tooru mutters under his breath. Kuroo must be the hungriest ghost Tooru has ever met. He doesn’t dwell on the fact that Kuroo is the only ghost Tooru has ever met.

There are voices coming from the ballroom and Kuroo veers off to investigate. Tooru follows and sees that it’s Suga making the noise, and he’s talking to a very small yet animated man with vibrant orange hair.

“What’s this?” Kuroo asks sharply, and Tooru is more satisfied than he perhaps should be at the way Suga nearly jumps out of his skin in fright.

“Tetsurou!” He squeaks, his hands flying out of the small one’s grasp. Tooru doesn’t miss the look of disappointment on the man’s face as this happens.

 _Interesting_.

“Hinata-kun was just asking me if he could maybe use the bar here for some of his patrons,” Suga says, a warm smile now starting to spread across his face.

“No,” Kuroo says, not even bothering to pretend to think about the answer.

Tooru slaps Kuroo on his arm, appalled at the lack of manners.

“Hello,” Tooru says, “It’s nice to meet you.” He walks up to Hinata and holds out his hand. Hinata barely comes to his shoulder.

“Oh, how rude of me!” Suga says, gesturing between Tooru and his friend. “Hinata this is Oikawa Tooru. He’s here to appraise the inn for his law firm.”

Tooru shakes Hinata’s hand, charmed by the way his eyes widen comically in awe after Suga’s introduction.

“Oikawa, this is my good friend Hinata Shouyou. He owns the only bar in town.”

“Yeah, well, I would if the pipes hadn’t frozen in this snow and caused some damages that prevent me from keeping it open right now.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Tooru says, although he really doesn’t care a whole lot. Not when there’s a mysterious death to solve and a ghost to put to rest. It really pales in comparison, actually.

“Yeah me too, which is why I came to Suga to see if he could open the tavern part of the inn during the holidays and if I could use the inn to host my annual Christmas eve party.”

“No,” says Kuroo again, and Tooru jumps a little. He forgot Kuroo was still in the room but now that he thinks about it he can feel the warmth of Kuroo seeping through the back of his soft purple sweater.

Hinata looks a bit taken aback by the curtness in Kuroo’s tone.

“What he means to say,” says Tooru, hoping to smooth things over a bit. “Is that the inn doesn’t usually stay open this time of year.” He slips his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Besides, I’ve got a bunch of things to do here in order to get this inn sold before the new year and it would be hard to do that with the tavern open.”

He doesn’t miss the surprised but grateful look Kuroo throws his way. Kuroo presses close to him, brushing Tooru’s shoulder with his own in a subtle sign of thanks. Suga, however, seems to have other plans and Hinata doesn’t seem like the type to be deterred easily.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Hinata asks Kuroo, and Tooru bites his lip to stop a giggle from escaping at the _nerve_ of this man. Kuroo stands almost an entire foot taller than him and yet Hinata doesn’t even flinch at the scowl Kuroo gives him.

Kuroo glances at Tooru like ‘this is your fault that he’s here so you answer him.’ Tooru admits that he can’t exactly say “this is the original owner of this inn. Yes, the one that died decades ago. It’s a long story.” So instead he says the first name he can think of.

“This is KT,” he blurts, and Suga snorts into his elbow with suppressed laughter.

“It most certainly is _not_ ,” says Kuroo, with the most affronted look Tooru has seen from him yet. “That’s a ridiculous name.”

“Would you excuse us for a moment?” Tooru asks sweetly.

Hinata nods a bit bewilderedly and Tooru grabs Kuroo’s wrist, towing him from the room and into the kitchen. He hears the soft murmur of Suga’s voice as he resumes talking to Hinata.

“What is your _problem_?” Tooru hisses when they’re alone in the kitchen. “Do you _want_ him to know who you are?”

“I want him gone,” Kuroo says, crossing his arms over his chest. “And if you weren’t dangling the possibility of being useful I’d want you gone with him so that I could finally get some peace and quiet.” He reaches out and grabs an apple from the table, biting into it hungrily.

Tooru huffs. “Well the one way to never get your solitude back is to keep acting like you are and ruining everything.”

Kuroo grabs a knife and shoves a slice of apple at Tooru. “Well what do you suggest?” He asks, while Tooru munches on the chunk of apple.

“Just follow my lead and keep quiet,” he says as Kuroo finishes off the last of the apple and throws the core away.

He pulls Kuroo forcibly back into the ballroom where Suga and Hinata are talking a bit closer to one another than they strictly need to be. Tooru doesn’t miss the way Suga’s hand is pressed into the small of Hinata’s back.

“So KT here is actually a cousin of the Kuroo family,” Tooru says when he has Hinata’s attention. A miracle considering the man can barely keep his eyes off Suga.

“Oh,” says Hinata, a bit surprised.

“He’s here looking at the property now that it’s up for grabs,” interjects Suga smoothly. Tooru sends him a covert wink, pleased at how quickly Suga reads a situation.

“How nice,” Hinata says. “I was really hoping that the tavern would be open. I mean, my pub is going to be closed for a week and I know that my more regular customers would love another place to go.”

“We’ve already dismissed all of the staff for the holidays,” says Kuroo, not unkindly, but still with enough of a disgruntled tone that Tooru cringes slightly.

“I’d be happy to bring in my own staff to tend the bar. I’ll bring in my own alcohol too,” Hinata supplies helpfully.

For whatever reason, this seems to spark a challenge in Kuroo’s eyes. “I’m the only person I trust behind a bar,” he says.

Tooru trades a surprised look with Suga.

“You can tend bar?” Hinata looks about two seconds away from vibrating loose from his skin in excitement.

“I’ve been doing it most of my life,” Kuroo says smoothly. “Why don’t you bring some of your friends over tonight and I’ll show you what I can do.”

“That would be amazing!” Hinata says, a smile splitting across his face and his eyes lighting up in excitement.

Tooru watches Suga’s eyes soften. When Suga notices Tooru’s knowing stare, a pretty flush colors his creamy cheeks.

“Then it’s settled,” Kuroo states with authority. “Bring your friends over tonight at seven.”

“Okay!” Hinata bounces happily. He turns around excitedly and beams up at Suga. “Thanks so much, Suga!” He throws his arms around Suga happily, tucking his head snugly under Suga’s chin.

Tooru fights off his gag reflex at the adorableness of the display.

And then Hinata is off, leaving as quickly as a whirlwind. Kuroo is already behind the bar tucked into the corner of the ballroom, writing furiously on a scrap of paper.

“Suga, I have a list for you of alcohol to get for tonight.” He holds out the scrap of paper, his eyes looking over the various bottles stored on shelves behind the counter.

Suga shakes himself out of a daze, arms still hovering in the air where they’d been wrapped around Hinata. He glares at Tooru when he sees him fighting back laughter. Even Suga’s glares are pretty.

“Right, sure, okay,” he says, walking over and plucking the list from Kuroo’s outstretched fingertips. Kuroo barely notices, still lost in what must be a mental inventory of sorts.

“I’ll go with you, Suga,” Tooru says, moving to walk with him as he heads for the back door.

Tooru could use to get out of the inn for a few hours.

“Sure, Oikawa.” Suga’s smile is warm and soft again.

 

They’re in the liquor store when Tooru’s phone rings. He sighs when he sees Daichi’s name flash across the screen, but he’s been avoiding this call for too long anyway so he answers it.

“Oikawa.”

“Oikawa, you better be on your way back to the office or so help me I will throw your snow globe collection out the fifth-floor window.”

Tooru gasps so loudly that Suga jumps next to him and looks around frantically, sure that someone is in trouble. “You wouldn’t _dare_ ,” he hisses, and Suga rolls his eyes at him. “Daichi you _know_ those are _rare_ and collectable!”

“Just watch me, Oikawa,” Daichi growls. Tooru can _see_ the scowl on his face. “I’m drowning in work here and Chikara is going to _kill_ me if his husband is home late, _again_ , when we haven’t even packed all the way for our trip yet.”

“Daichi I just need a few more days and then I’ll be back I promise.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t gotten the inn appraised yet.”

Well,” Tooru starts. Daichi doesn’t let him finish.

“You’re _joking._ I can’t believe this.” Daichi’s half sob half sigh is audible through the line. “Oikawa there had better be a good reason for this.”

“It’s not me Daichi _it’s the ghost.”_

Next to him, Suga snorts, tries to muffle his laughter as he slaps a hand over his mouth. Tooru sends him the most vicious look he can manage while trying to explain to his boss how a ghost is ruining his life.

He places a hand over the mouthpiece of his phone and whispers, “Does the inn have a fax?” to Suga while Daichi is letting go of a long string of profanity in his ear. Suga nods and Tooru cuts Daichi off mid-stream to say, “The inn has a fax, so send me everything you don’t want to do and I’ll get it done. I have my laptop and scanner so I can work from here for you but I can’t leave until I have this settled.”

“Oikawa, if you weren’t my best lawyer you would be fired right now,” Daichi says gruffly, but Tooru knows the worst has passed because Daichi only calls him the best when he’s about to make Tooru do some truly awful paperwork.

“I’ll text you the fax number in a minute,” Tooru sighs, knowing that he’s going to be a lot busier now.

Daichi doesn’t respond, just hangs up. Tooru lets his hand drop to his side and Suga breaks into bright, tinkling giggles.

“Suga I need that fax number.”

It takes Suga a full two minutes to calm down enough to give it to him.

 

 

Tooru finally emerges from his room later that night after a long afternoon of sorting through Daichi’s latest torture for him and heads down to a small party that is in full swing. There’s soft jazz playing in the ballroom that sounds faintly Christmas-like in theme, but subtly so. The lights are dimmed and there’s a fire crackling merrily in the hearth. It’s a cozy scene and Tooru is glad he’s wearing one of his flattering but extremely soft pairs of jeans with a warm cream sweater. He hates showing up and not being dressed correctly for the occasion.

Tooru shakes his head and figures that the best thing for the sudden dryness in his mouth is to get a drink from the bar. He drags himself over and plops on one of the stools, resting his head on the cool wood of the bar.

“I haven’t seen you around much today,” Kuroo says by way of greeting, his gold eyes flashing. He sets a drink down in front of Tooru’s nose and Tooru reaches up and takes a sip without even asking what’s in it. He could honestly use some alcohol right now.

“My boss agreed to let me stay here until I manage to find a buyer for the inn but in exchange I have to do whatever paperwork he sends me and that has not been...pleasant.” Tooru is feeling a bit more alive already, and he wants to credit the alcohol but he thinks it might have more to do with the person that mixed the drink rather than the drink itself.

Kuroo opens his mouth to speak, but whatever he’s about to say is lost as Hinata appears behind the bar with a challenging smirk. “Can you make me a Manhattan Twist?”

“Coming right up,” Kuroo purrs, and Tooru can’t help but think that Kuroo is finally in his element here, behind a bar and mixing drink like he’s been doing it for decades.

Then again.

Suga appears next to Tooru and Kuroo hands him an already mixed drink without pausing the skilled pouring he’s doing with his other hand.

“Thanks,” Suga says, raising the drink in salute to Kuroo before downing the amber liquid in one shot.

Kuroo gapes at him, and for the first time Tooru sees him spill a drop of liquid on the bar instead of in the tumbler. “Suga, that wasn’t really intended to be drunk in one shot.”

Suga just shrugs and throws a wink at Hinata, who blushes furiously.

Tooru snickers behind the rim of his glass. The drink really is quite good. He watches Hinata work up the nerve to walk around the bar and sit on the stool next to Suga.

Neither Tooru nor Kuroo comments on how Suga casually slips his hand onto Hinata’s inner thigh, though they can both see him do it.

“I’ve always loved this place,” says Hinata, apropos of nothing.

“Yeah,” Tooru nods slowly, his eyes catch Kuroo’s and he doesn’t look away as he says, “I’ve found that I like it more than I thought I would.”

He watches as Kuroo swallows thickly, but his heated gaze stays fixed on Tooru, dancing between his eyes, lips, throat like he can’t decide what he wants to lick first.

Tooru winks, for good measure. Ghost or not, Kuroo is hot, and he can’t help but remember what it was like to see Kuroo without a shirt on.

Tooru’s pants suddenly feel a bit too tight.

Tooru wants to say that this feeling stirring in his chest is lust but he’s felt lust before and this is something that feels heavier, more lasting. It’s foreign and new and he doesn’t like the way it makes his heart beat a bit faster, his breath come quicker.

He takes another sip of his drink to distract himself away from this feeling. It doesn’t quite work like he wants it too.

Kuroo walks over to the other end of the bar to mix up a drink for someone else and Tooru feels the lack of his presence like a missing limb.

“I mean, ghosts and tragedies and scandalous marriages. People in this town still talk about it even now,” Hinata continues, and Tooru has to think back to what they were talking about before he found himself lost in Kuroo’s eyes.

The inn, right.

“Scandalous marriages?” Suga asks, and Tooru focuses back in on the conversation fully, aware that this is probably important information that he should be hearing.

“Oh yes,” Hinata nods excitedly, lowering his voice a bit with the gossip. “Between Kozume Kenma and Kuroo Keiji.”

Tooru nearly spits out his drink. Suga’s eyes are wide with surprise.

“What?” Tooru asks, and he notices the way Kuroo tilts his head in their direction, clearly listening in as he mixes drinks at the other end of the bar.

“Yes it was quite the scandal apparently. Kenma married his fiancé’s brother just a month or so after his fiancé Tetsurou died tragically. Then he died himself about nine months later.”

“That’s awful,” Tooru says, and he doesn’t have to see Kuroo’s face to know that this information can’t be something he would want shared.

Tooru didn’t even know that Kuroo had a brother, or that Kenma had died.

“Nobody believed that the marriage was real, at all,” says Hinata, taking another sip from his drink. “It’s thought that he died from a broken heart of losing Tetsurou, but of course we’ll never actually know.”

Kuroo abruptly puts down the bottle of liquor on the counter and walks out of the room.

“Hinata,” Suga starts, a coy smile playing across his lips. Tooru is pretty sure he’s just covering for Kuroo’s abrupt departure, but it’s terrifying to watch. “Would you like to dance with me?”

Tooru watches the slow flood of color into Hinata’s cheeks as he nods quickly, his fingers sliding between Suga’s where they still rest on his thigh. “I’d love to,” he says, smiling brightly.

As they slip away to the dance floor, Tooru goes in search of Kuroo, finding him in one of the parlors on this level of the inn.

“Hey, are you okay?” Tooru asks when he sees the way Kuroo is pacing around the room fitfully.

“Of course I’m not okay,” Kuroo snaps, and Tooru tries not to take it personally.

“What’s wrong?”

“How could you discuss my life so callously with a stranger?” Kuroo bites out.

Tooru takes it personally this time, rising to match Kuroo’s tone. “Hey, I was getting good information.”

“Yeah, about my life!” Kuroo shouts, not loud enough that they’ll be able to hear it in the other room, but loud enough to startle Tooru into anger. “I know to you this must seem like some great mystery for you to solve but it’s not! It’s real and it _happened,_ Oikawa. It happened to _me_.”

“I’m trying to help you!” Tooru shouts back, his anger causing him to speak before he can think about what he’s saying. “But you won’t tell me things and so I have to get information from somewhere, if not you.”

Kuroo runs his hands through his hair in a distressed motion, his hair becoming, if possible, more disheveled with the gesture. “I didn’t even know,” he says, his tone considerably softer than it had been a moment ago.

Tooru steps in the way of his pacing, making Kuroo come to a stop in front of him so he can ask, “What didn’t you know, Kuroo?”

“I didn’t know that he married my brother, or that he’d died,” Kuroo says, and he can’t meet Tooru’s eyes as he says this, like the weight of the words is too much to bear.

“You didn’t ask Bokuto?”

Kuroo shakes his head. “I didn’t want to know why Kenma wasn’t around when I returned for the first time. I couldn’t bear to put him through losing me only to have me again for twelve days.”

“Kuroo,” Tooru says, hesitantly placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. But you have to trust that I’m doing everything I can to try and break your curse.”

Kuroo finally looks up and meets his eyes. Tooru was expecting to see grief, sadness, pain, something along those lines in Kuroo’s eyes and is surprised when he doesn’t.

What he sees is desire.

Tooru inhales sharply, lips parting slightly, as the full weight of Kuroo’s gaze settles on him. He shivers, but feels altogether too hot in this moment. “Kuroo,” he says, but trails off, not sure what else he was going to say as Kuroo’s hands settle on his hips.

Kuroo pulls him closer, just a bit, maintaining eye contact as he brings his face within inches of Tooru's.

Tooru has time to pull away, but his blood is thrumming in his veins and his hand is sliding from where it lies resting on his shoulder to tangle in the soft black curls at the base of Kuroo’s neck and he really, really doesn’t want to move away.

So he moves closer, bringing their chests flush with one another. Kuroo’s hands tighten on his waist, thumbs pressing into the dip of his hip bones.

Tooru pulls, just slightly, on the back of Kuroo’s neck, and that’s all it takes for Kuroo to bring their lips crashing together.

It’s a hot, intense kiss from the start and Tooru can barely keep up with Kuroo’s relentless pace. He can’t help but moan softly into Kuroo’s mouth when his tongue slips between Tooru’s parted lips and slides along his own.

Tooru doesn’t realize they’re moving until he collides with the parlor wall, the impact startling a breath out of him when he gasps in surprise. Kuroo takes full advantage of their new position, pressing into him, his hands traveling up Tooru’s sides, up his neck, to tangle in the strands of his hair.

Tooru breaks the kiss, moving to bite lightly at Kuroo’s neck, smiling against warm olive skin when it makes Kuroo groan.

Kuroo’s hands are _everywhere,_ like he can’t decide where he wants to put them more. They’re tugging in his hair, only to wander down across his stomach, to press into his lower back.

Tooru is doing fine, just fine, until Kuroo slides his hands up under the hem of his sweater, pressing hot hands to the warm skin of Tooru’s back.

He _shudders_ , pulling his mouth away from what he’s sure is going to be a hickey on Kuroo’s neck to lock their lips together again, his tongue spilling into Kuroo’s the second he parts his lips.

He doesn’t have enough air, suffocating under the heat of Kuroo’s kiss and burning from the inside out, his skin feels tight across his bones. It’s a strange feeling but he craves _more_ and doesn’t want it to stop.

Without warning, Kuroo rips himself away from Tooru, backing away quickly with a stricken expression on his face.

“Wha?” Tooru pants, unsure as to why Kuroo would ever back away but knowing that he needs Kuroo’s body pressed against his again, that he’ll probably always need Kuroo pressed up against him.

He aches for him already and he’s only a few feet away. Tooru doesn’t know what this feeling is; the shortness of breath, the constricted feeling around his heart, the heat thrumming through his body. He’s never felt this when anyone kissed him in the past and it’s a terrifying sense that nothing is going to be the same now. Nobody will ever kiss him like Kuroo kisses him.

So why isn’t Kuroo kissing him.

“Oikawa, you deserve more than this,” Kuroo says, gesturing between them. “I only have eight days left before you won’t be able to see me, hear me, _touch_ me.”

Kuroo looks distraught, but Tooru feels like he should have seen this coming. Except this time, he’s on the flip side and he knows what it’s like to suddenly find yourself in love with someone who can’t love you.

He wonders how it happened so fast.

“Wait,” Tooru says, reaching out to grab the sleeve of Kuroo’s sweater. “What about what _I_ want?”

Kuroo looks over his shoulder, a pained look in his eyes. “I’d love for you to keep helping me try and figure out what happened to me, but I understand if you want to leave.”

Kuroo pulls his arm away from Tooru and walks back to the ballroom.

Tooru takes a minute, runs his fingers through the soft strands of his hair, breathing deeply a few times before following Kuroo.

He takes in the small changes to the room since he was last present. Suga is dancing slowly to the soft jazz filtering through the room, Hinata’s head resting on his chest. Kuroo is back behind the bar, wiping down the counter, the red sleeves of his sweater pushed up to his elbows, revealing the smooth shape of his forearms.

It’s the easiest decision Tooru has ever made.

He has eight days to figure out what happened to Kuroo, find a way to keep him in the realm of the living after the curse is broken, and maybe make him fall in love with Tooru too.

He’s done more difficult things in eight days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Comments and kudos are /always/ welcome <3
> 
> As always, you can find me here: [Tumblr](https://mysoulrunswithwolves.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/wolfstar_soul)


	3. running to stand still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oikawa literally no one at that firm is very good at thinking in a crisis except for you and me, and since we’re both gone it’s absolute chaos.”
> 
> “But—”
> 
> “Lev has already had two breakdowns and I think that Tanaka tried to quit. Twice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait T.T
> 
> I don't apologize for the content of this chapter.

_1924_

“You’re _what?”_ Bokuto shrieks, gold eyes wide with shock.

“I’m out, Bo. I want to be done,” Tetsurou repeats calmly, stuffing his hands into his coat to keep them warm against the chill in the air.

“You know this isn’t going to go over well with the Nekomas right?” Bokuto asks, leaning in toward Tetsurou, concern all over his face. “They don’t like people who just up and quit on them, especially when it’s a running team as good as us.”

“Well they’re just going to have to deal without me because Kenma is more important than the extra money.” Tetsurou shifts his weight, measuring his next words carefully. “Bo, I think you should stop too. You have Yukie and you’re going to have a kid soon.”

Bokuto sighs and crosses his arms. “I know, you’re right. I told the Nekomas that this was going to be my last season a few weeks ago.”

“Good,” Kuroo says. “Let’s hope old-man Nekoma is feeling merciful today and lets me go without a price.”

“Indeed,” Bokuto says, then moves closer, rests his hand on Tetsurou’s shoulder. “You’re my best friend, cousin. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Tetsurou smiles, “Me too, Bo, me too.” He’s about to say something else, maybe hug his cousin tightly, but the door in front of them opens and a firm voice says, “Enter.”

They look at one another, nervous smiles in place, before they step into the office.

 

Kenma paces a path in the carpet of the parlor room. It’s been ten days since Tetsurou left, and he’s supposed to be back in the next two. He knows, logically, that he shouldn’t be nervous yet, that Tetsurou has come back safely every other time, that this time will be no different.

So why does he feel this looming sense of foreboding? Why is it that he can’t calm the twisting in his stomach, or the way his heart has been beating faster than normal all day. He tries to calm his heart, slow his breathing. The last thing he needs is to have a nervous breakdown in the middle of the parlor.

He loosens his tie in an effort to suck air into his quickly constricting lungs. It helps a little, but not enough.

A cold sweat breaks out onto the back of his neck and his hands start to shake. He just wants it to stop but he can’t get enough air to calm his heart. Usually Tetsurou is here to help him measure his breaths, to hold him until the shaking stops but he isn’t and Kenma can’t be in this room anymore.

He walks quickly up the two flights of stairs until he’s in Tetsurou’s room, the smell of his cologne still lingering in the air. He runs over to the bed and collapses on it, limbs shaking as he tries to focus on the way he can smell Tetsurou more strongly against the pillows than he can anywhere else in the inn.

It’s working, slowly. The scent of Tetsurou calming him and helping him take deeper and deeper breaths.

There’s a knock at the door that he didn’t bother to close, and Kenma rolls over slightly to see Keiji standing in the doorway. “Are you all right, Kenma?”

The sight of Keiji soothes him slightly, while also making the ache for Tetsurou that much stronger. Kenma shakes his head slightly, and Keiji comes and sits on the edge of the bed behind him after shutting the door.

They have the same dark curls, the same olive skin, Tetsurou and Keiji. But where Tetsurou is all sharp lines, wild hair and gold eyes, Keiji is tame swirls of hair, silver eyes and delicate features. Keiji rubs soothing circles into Kenma’s back.

“He’s going to be fine, Kenma.”

Kenma hopes with every fiber of his being, but no matter how much he repeats those words in his head, the lingering feeling that all is not right stays, shadowing each beat of his slowly fracturing heart.

 

_Present Day_

Tooru gives himself exactly twelve hours to be upset by Kuroo’s streak of noble intentions before he moves past it, and he spends half of it sleeping, so.

By the time he drags himself out of bed and convinces himself that he’s ready to face the day it’s noon and the sun is reflecting brightly off the snow that fell last night. Piano music filters up softly from the main floor, and Tooru can just barely hear Kuroo’s voice drifting through the inn, winding with the notes of the piano.

He’s working his way slowly down stairs when a door slams on the second landing. Tooru pauses, and spends perhaps a full minute debating if it’s worth it to indulge Kuroo in his annoying habits or not, but Kuroo is still playing the piano, so Tooru decides to investigate.

Tooru walks down the landing slowly, and the door to the room at the end of the hallway creaks open slowly.

“Hello?” Tooru says, pushing the door open further. It’s a normal room inside: bed, small bathroom, closet. “Kuroo, cut it out,” he says a little louder.

 _“Leave,”_ a voice hisses, and the bedroom door slams shut behind him, making Tooru jump with a shriek.

It’s just a whisper in the stillness of the room, but Tooru shudders at the sound as the word grates down his spine and makes the hairs stand up on the back of his neck.

“Kuroo, seriously, _stop_ ,” Tooru says, terror choking his voice and causing his heart to speed up. He tries to breathe deeply but he can only manage short, fast breaths.

A dark, shadowy figure is standing in the doorway to the bathroom, door ajar slightly, and Tooru screams with the shock of suddenly seeing _something_ that wasn’t there a moment ago. He struggles to breathe steadily.

“ _Leave, now,_ ” the spirit hisses, and Tooru backs up quickly, not exactly knowing what to do when confronted by an insubstantial spirit that seems upset by his presence.

The spirit rushes at him and Tooru closes his eyes and throws his hands up over his eyes.

“Oikawa?” Kuroo shouts, throwing open the door with a snap and running into the room. He twists, shielding Tooru as the shadowy figure rushes for him, but Tooru watches through his fingers as the figure vanishes just before it reaches Kuroo.

Tooru feels like he might collapse, so it’s a good thing Kuroo gathers him up in his arms, holding him to his chest tightly.

“Oikawa, are you okay?” Kuroo asks, pulling away slightly to look at Tooru’s face, lips pursed in concern.

“I’m _fine_ ,” he says, but it comes out choked by tears of terror and he feels a tear streak from the corner of one eye.

“Hey, _hey,_ ” Kuroo says, reaching up with one hand to brush the tear from his cheek. The other stays wrapped securely around Tooru’s back. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

“Why would you _do_ that to me?” Tooru cries, fisting his hands in the material of Kuroo’s shirt. “I _told_ you to _stop_ with the door slamming and trying to scare me. I don’t _like_ to be scared.”

“Oikawa, it wasn’t me, I _swear_ ,” Kuroo says, running a hand soothingly up and down Tooru’s back.

Tooru stares intently at Kuroo, vision blurry through tears, trying to detect any hint of a lie. He feels tension drain from his shoulders when he finds no trace of a lie. He wraps his arms around Kuroo’s waist, pulling him close and burying his face in Kuroo’s shoulder. “If it wasn’t you, then what _was_ it.”

“I don’t know,” Kuroo says, and Tooru misses the look of concern on his face as he says it.

 

“Oikawa speaking.”

“Oikawa I need you back at the office,” Daichi says by way of greeting. “I’m on vacation but apparently they’re having a crisis and I don’t trust anyone else to go in and fix it.”

Tooru sits on the couch in the parlor, diaries and papers scattered around him, and sighs. “Daichi I’m neck deep in work here are you sure there isn’t anyone else who can fix it?”

Tooru can hear the muted voice of Daichi’s husband through the line as Daichi says, “Oikawa literally no one at that firm is very good at thinking in a crisis except for you and me, and since we’re both gone it’s absolute chaos.”

“But—”

“Lev has already had two breakdowns and I think that Tanaka tried to quit. Twice.”

“If I do this for you, you owe me a snow globe from the Bahamas,” Tooru says with another world-weary sigh. “And once I get things sorted out I’m going right back to the inn.”

“Fine, fine,” Daichi says, and in the background of the call he can hear Ennoshita saying “I swear Daichi I will rip your balls off if you don’t put down the phone and _be on vacation._ ”

“You’d better go, Daichi,” Tooru says, feeling merciful. An angry Ennoshita Chikara is one of the most terrifying things Tooru has ever seen.

Daichi’s reply is the click as the line goes dead.

“What was that all about?” asks Kuroo, walking into the room with a mug of coffee for Tooru.

“I have to go back to work for another day or two,” he says, sipping the coffee gratefully.

Kuroo sits down next to him, and Tooru is painfully aware of the way he makes sure there’s a few inches between them.

Despite Kuroo comforting him earlier this morning, he has been extremely careful not to touch Tooru any more than is necessary.

They’ve spent the day looking through some old journals that Kuroo had stashed away in the attic of the inn. A few were his, a few more Kenma’s, and a lot of them belonged to Keiji and Bokuto. Tooru is glad that it used to be expected that people would keep journals of their daily activities.

“Oh,” is all Kuroo says, and Tooru is pretty sure that he can hear a faint note of disappointment in his voice. “Why do you have to go back?”

“There’s some sort of crisis that only I can fix, apparently,” Tooru says, gathering up the journals and papers from around Kuroo’s death. “My boss, Sawamura Daichi, is on vacation so he asked me to go back in to work to set things straight.”

Kuroo tries to sound nonchalant when he asks, “Are you planning on returning to the _Mistletoe?_ ”

Tooru bites back a smile and nods, moving into the hallway with the journals and up to his room. Kuroo follows him as Tooru replies, “It should only take a day or two to sort out, so that should give us plenty of time to break your curse still.”

With Kuroo following him up the stairs he can’t see his expression, but he can hear the sigh of relief that Kuroo isn’t quite able to hide. “Good, that’s good.”

“You don’t mind if I take some of these journals with me and keep looking through them, right?” Tooru asks, already starting to pack up the small, leather-bound books.

“Go ahead, I won’t need them again.”

“Great,” Tooru says, quickly gathering up his things and throwing them all back into his overnight bag. “I’ll be back in a few days then.”

“See you soon,” Kuroo says, and disappears from the room.

Tooru leaves a few minutes later, and he swears he can see Kuroo watching him go from the front porch.

 

In the end, it takes Tooru three days to sort out everything at the office.

***

Tetsurou is bored.

For the first time since he’s been back this year, he is bored and he doesn’t want to admit that it’s because Oikawa is gone.

But it is.

“Your move,” Suga says, looking at Tetsurou expectantly.

Tetsurou examines the board and sees that unless he’s very clever, Suga is going to win in the next few moves. He moves his knight.

“Do you want to tell me why you can’t stop sighing?” Suga asks, moving his bishop across the board.

“It’s nothing. I’m just trying to figure out the circumstances behind my death.” Tetsurou moves his queen.

“This has nothing to do with the handsome someone who has been helping you do this?” Suga’s knight takes his bishop.

Suga’s phone lights up between them and Tetsurou pounces on the chance to distract Suga away from the subject of Oikawa. “Your lover is calling you on your device,” he says, using a pawn to set up a trap.

“Hinata is not my lover,” Suga replies primly, ignoring the call. Tetsurou smirks when he moves directly into his trap.

“Generally, when I see two people looking at each other they way you and Hinata look at each other it’s because they’re lovers.” Tetsurou moves his rook into place. “Checkmate.”

Suga’s head falls onto the table with a dull thud. “You’re insufferable when you’re bored. Usually you let me win the first game.”

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do. When did Oikawa say he was coming back?”

“In a day or two, but that was three days ago,” Tetsurou mumbles. He has no right to be missing Oikawa as much as he is. Not when he has his own death to solve.

And then there’s the fact that he kissed Oikawa and then pushed him away. _It’s for his own good, though,_ he thinks. Oikawa won’t be happy only seeing him for twelve days out of the year, that’s not fair to anyone, much less someone like Oikawa who deserves more.

“You know what?” Suga asks. He doesn’t wait for an answer from Tetsurou, just keeps on going. “I think you’re being an idiot.”

“Gee, thanks Suga.”

“People like Oikawa don’t come along very often, and ghost or not, I don’t think you should let that stop you from falling in love again and finally moving on.”

“Who says I’m falling in love?” Tetsurou asks, trying his hardest not to break eye contact with Suga.

Suga snorts, and Tetsurou takes a moment to appreciate the fact that only Suga can make a snort sound pretty.

“Tetsu, please. You’re playing chess with me.”

“I fail to see how that proves anything, Suga.”

“You are so lonely without Oikawa to chatter away to you that you’re filling your time by playing chess with me.”

They both glance down as Suga’s phone starts vibrating on the table.

“Your lover is calling you again.”

“He’s not—” Suga cuts himself off. “I’m going to take this call, but don’t think that I’m done talking about your feelings for Oikawa,” he says sternly, backing away while answering his phone.

Tetsurou sighs and looks out the window to his left. The ground is covered in fresh, unbroken snow like it always is this time of year. He can’t remember the last time he saw a season other than winter. When he was alive, probably.

Like it always does, his mind eventually wanders to Oikawa as Suga’s giggles drifting to him in the quiet of the inn.

_Tetsurou…_

The whisper is so quiet that Kuroo doesn’t even notice it at first, but then it echoes back to him in the silence of the inn and he startles into alertness, looking around. There’s no one else in the inn and Suga’s still talking to Hinata on the phone.

It’s probably nothing.

Still, Oikawa said he’d be back yesterday, and there’s still no sign of him. Tetsurou isn’t worried, he’s _not_ , but he feels something a bit like concern work its way around his heart to twinge sharply in his chest.

The sooner Oikawa breaks this curse on him the better.

***

Tooru can’t remember the last time an intern made this much of a mess out of year-end statements.

By the time he manages to sort out all the misfiled and lost statements it’s been three days. The only good thing is that he’s been spending every spare minute at the office and his apartment pouring over the journals of Kenma and Keiji, trying to understand what happened after Kuroo died.

It hasn’t been very helpful.

Kenma’s journals are…depressing, to put it lightly. Tooru can’t help but feel for the poor man who lost the love of his life at such a young age. It becomes very clear to Tooru, by the time he finishes Kenma’s journals, that Kenma died of a broken heart.

Keiji’s journals aren’t much better. They’re full of panic and pain over losing his brother, as well as a longing to take care of Kenma and put the pieces of his heart back together with his love for Kenma.

Clearly, it wasn’t enough.

He returns to his cold apartment the evening of his third day back in the city, already ready to go back to the inn first thing in the morning, and picks up the last journal he has to read through.

He hasn’t allowed himself a moment to think since he left the inn, knowing that the moment his mind was unoccupied it would drift back to Kuroo, to the way his lips felt when they were sliding against his own, to the strength in his fingers and hands as he gripped Tooru’s hips, pulling him closer.

He doesn’t think about how much he longs to be back in Kuroo’s presence. Even the thought of being near him is enough to get his stomach fluttering in excitement after three days without seeing him.

Yes, it’s best to keep busy.

He curls up in bed and opens the last journal.

It’s Bokuto’s journal, Kuroo’s cousin, and he’s hoping that it details something other than Kenma’s devastation and heartbreak over the loss of Kuroo.

He’s not disappointed.

 

Tooru pulls up to the _Mistletoe Inn_ and feels the strangest sense of deja-vu.

This time, however, he walks straight into the inn without hesitation and shouts, “I’m back!”

Footsteps echo through the hallway to manifest as Suga, who rushes up to Tooru excitedly.

“Oh good, I’m so glad you’re back!” He hugs Tooru briefly before stepping back. “Tetsu has been _so bored_ with you gone.”

Tooru can’t help but raise an eyebrow. How enlightening. “Has he now? Well then, I’ll have to go and say hi.”

Suga smiles at him knowingly, “I think he’s upstairs in his room, reading.”

“Thanks,” Tooru says, already turning to head up the stairs. He walks to the room he was staying in earlier in the week and drops his bags full of fresh clothes and the journals before walking down the hall to Kuroo’s room.

He pauses in the doorway, taking in the sight of Kuroo sitting in an armchair, reading quietly in the sun.

“Hello, Kuroo,” Tooru says softly, leaning against the door frame.

Kuroo startles a bit before looking up quickly. Tooru wishes he could freeze the moment when Kuroo’s eyes soften at the sight of him, wishes that he could never forget the soft smile Kuroo gives him as he says, “Welcome back.”

But moments are fleeting and all too soon the moment has gone.

“Did you get everything sorted out at work?” Kuroo inquires, closing his book and standing up, walking toward Tooru.

“Yes, finally,” Tooru says quietly. “I’m sorry it took longer than I thought it would.”

“That’s quite alright.” Kuroo is right in front of him, eyes shimmering in the afternoon light. “I missed you,” he sighs into the space between them. It’s a small admission, but it feels momentous to Tooru.

Tooru tries to speak, to force some kind of response through the dryness of his throat but nothing comes out besides a breathless ‘ _oh_ ’ as his lips curl into a small smile.

“Did you learn anything from the journals?” Kuroo asks.

Is Kuroo moving closer or is he imagining things?

“Y-yeah,” Tooru finally manages to say through the dryness in his mouth. But his smile doesn’t subside.

“What did you learn?” Kuroo is close enough that Tooru can see the threads of amber in his golden eyes.

Tooru pulls his attention away from Kuroo’s eyes and lips with immense effort and focuses instead on the light blue material of his sweater. “Nothing much from Kenma’s or Keiji’s journals, well, nothing useful that is. But it seems like Bokuto was quite torn up about something.”

Kuroo’s lips are drawn down at the corners in thought, and Tooru realizes that he’s staring at Kuroo’s lips again. He doesn’t even try to look away again.

“About my death?” Kuroo asks, and Tooru struggles to remember anything other than the way Kuroo’s lips feel when they’re pressed against his own.

“Mmmm…no, it seemed like something more than that,” he replies, almost absently. “He kept mentioning how upset he was that he couldn’t talk to Keiji about it, but he never once stated what had him so torn up.”

Kuroo reaches up to run his fingers through his tangled hair in contemplation, and Tooru tries to remember to keep breathing as the motion causes Kuroo’s arm to drag briefly against Tooru’s chest with their close proximity.

“Would you mind showing me these passages?” Kuroo asks, one hand still tangled in his dark waves.

“No, not at all,” Tooru says, trying to suppress the excitement in his tone. “I left them in my room.”

He turns, gesturing for Kuroo to follow and they both walk down the hallway to Tooru’s room.

“Are you sure I’m allowed in?” Kuroo asks cheekily as he crosses the threshold into the room.

Tooru turns his head just enough that Kuroo can see the exaggerated motion as he rolls his eyes. “Yes, you can come in my room.”

Kuroo raises his hands up in front of him as he moves to sit on the edge of Tooru’s bed. “Just making sure.”

 

It’s the slam of a hallway door that starts it.

Tooru and Kuroo have been in his room pouring over and discussing the contents of Bokuto’s journals, cross referencing to some of Keiji’s and Kenma’s even, trying to find answers for the last several hours.

The slam startles Tooru into a sitting position, and he realizes that night has fallen and it’s gotten quite late. With the lamps on around the room he hadn’t noticed the fading light through the windows.

He looks over at Kuroo. “That wasn’t you, right?” he asks, feeling flighty and nervous knowing that _something_ else lurks in the inn.

Kuroo is frowning, eyebrows creased. “No, that wasn’t me.”

Tooru starts closing journals and gathering up his notes, moving them off the bed.

“What are you doing, Oikawa?”

“I’m moving all of this out of the way so that I can cower under these blankets in fright.”

Kuroo lays a hand on his arm soothingly. “Hey, it’s late. I’ll go look into the slamming doors and you just get ready for bed.”

Tooru nods, but really all he wants to do is bury himself in the safe circle of Kuroo’s arms. He can feel the burning imprint of Kuroo’s hand on his arm. “Be careful,” he says instead, watching as Kuroo slips out of the room.

Tooru moves with superhuman speed, throwing on a soft long-sleeved shirt and flannel pajama pants and brushing his teeth faster than he ever has in the past. As he’s crossing from his bathroom to his bed, the bathroom door slams shut on its own, and Tooru shrieks and dives for his bed. He rips the sheets back only to crawl under them and pull them up over his head, a firm believer that if he can’t see it then it can’t hurt him.

“Oikawa?”

He hears Kuroo call, and it sounds panicked to his ears. Kuroo calls his name again, louder this time as he approaches Tooru’s room.

“Oikawa, hey. What’s wrong?” The bed dips under his weight as he sits down next to Tooru’s tightly curled body.

Ever so slowly, Tooru peels back the covers, revealing a concerned looking Kuroo above him. “The door slammed shut on its own again,” he says, rather weakly but not really caring in his current, terrified state.

Kuroo looks around the room and stands up. “Well, there isn’t anything in here now.” He turns back to Tooru and smiles softly. “I’ll leave and let you get some rest.”

Tooru reaches out and snags Kuroo’s wrist as he turns to walk away. He ignores the spark of desire that thrums through him at the contact. “Will you…stay?”

The question is hesitant, gentle, and Tooru is fairly certain that he’ll say no. He bites his tongue as Kuroo looks down at him over his shoulder, eyes blank of emotion. He’s silent for too long and Tooru has nearly bitten through his tongue by the time Kuroo nods slowly, a small smile tugging the corner of his mouth up.

Tooru sighs in relief. He does _not_ want to be alone, at night, in this inn.

“Let me change into my pajamas real quick, okay?” Kuroo says softly. “I’ll be right back.” He pulls his wrist out of Tooru’s grip, but reaches back to brush a knuckle against his forehead.

Tooru just nods, savoring the feeling of Kuroo’s skin on his as Kuroo leaves the room. Tooru shuts his eyes, not wanting to see anything except Kuroo.

He knows that Kuroo’s back in the room when footsteps patter back into the room, lamps clicking off as Kuroo darkens the room. Tooru has five seconds to be afraid before a weight is sinking down behind him on the other side of the bed, Kuroo’s soft purr asking, “Is this okay?” into the dark of the room.

Tooru nods, then realizes Kuroo probably can’t see the motion in the dark, and he manages a breathy, “yeah” in answer.  

Tooru can feel the warmth of Kuroo slowly soaking the sheets, and he wants, _craves_ , to roll over and press against Kuroo. He lies still, back to Kuroo, and tries to work up enough courage to just _do_ it.

Kuroo’s hand brushes the dip of his spine tentatively, and Tooru inhales sharply. Kuroo pauses, not moving at the sound Tooru makes, but Tooru presses into the touch, his spine curving against the fingers pressed to his lower back.

That’s all it takes for Kuroo to slide his arm around his waist, pulling Tooru back and flush against his chest.

Tooru sighs as heat and desire flush through him, embers sparking and flaring in his blood. He presses against Kuroo, needy, wanting as much contact as possible. He lets his hand find Kuroo’s to lace his fingers through the hand thrown around his waist. Kuroo’s lips press against the back of his neck, right at the top of his spine, and he knows that Kuroo feels the shiver that works its way through his body at the sensation.

“Kuroo,” he breathes into the quiet, ghosts long forgotten.

Kuroo’s answering groan is lost in Tooru’s hair and he can’t take it anymore. Tooru squirms around until he’s facing Kuroo and then they’re nose to nose in the darkness. Kuroo’s hand presses into Tooru’s spine again, moving to slide up and under Tooru’s shirt until all he can think about is the slow drag of Kuroo’s fingers up the skin of his back.

Tooru slips a leg between Kuroo’s, his own arm sliding around Kuroo’s waist to pull them closer until their chests are flush, lips just millimeters apart.

“Oikawa,” Kuroo breathes, lips brushing Tooru’s briefly. “We shouldn’t.”

“Kiss me,” Tooru commands instead, thinking that they very much _should_.

Kuroo’s lips feel exactly like he remembered they did. Soft against his own, but firm and possessive. The hand against the skin of his back presses Tooru closer, and he yields easily to the pressure between his shoulder blades. His own hands work their way up into Kuroo’s hair and it’s _soft_ , silky even, beneath his fingers.

Tooru can’t focus on much more other than the way Kuroo sucks his bottom lip between his own to bite at it softly. He’s lost in the sensations, gasping when Kuroo licks into his mouth, tongue sweeping through his mouth in broad, possessive strokes.

Tooru hears himself whine when Kuroo slowly, tentatively, rolls his hips against Tooru’s thigh and he can feel the hardness of Kuroo against the leg he has tangled between Kuroo’s. His hands become desperate for _more_ , and he moves one back down the firm lines of Kuroo’s spine until his hand is snug against the curve of Kuroo’s ass, using the new placement to pull Kuroo’s hips closer to his own.

He rolls his hips against Kuroo and isn’t prepared for what happens next.

With a low growl, Kuroo pushes him onto his back so that he can pin Tooru to the mattress with the weight of his body and lips. Tooru’s hands fly away in surprise to flop on either side of his head as Kuroo swallows his yelp of surprise with his mouth. Kuroo slides a hand along Tooru’s forearm until he’s tangling their fingers together against the mattress.

Kuroo hums as he moves away from Tooru’s lips to suck lightly at his neck, a burning, searing trail of heat that brands Tooru as Kuroo’s with every open-mouthed kiss he places to the smooth expanse of skin.

It’s no surprise, really, that Tooru moans as loud as he does when Kuroo languidly rolls his hips against Tooru’s, providing them both with some much needed friction.

“Do you,” Tooru starts, then gets distracted by the feeling of Kuroo sliding his free hand under the waistband of Tooru’s pants to press his thumb into the hollow of his hips. Whatever he was going to ask lost in a moan as the sensation causes heat to course through him.

“Do I?” Kuroo asks, a whisper into the skin of Tooru’s collarbone.

Tooru tries again. “Do you…have lube?”

Kuroo bites down into the skin of Tooru’s shoulder, groaning loudly. “No,” he finally manages after a moment, hips stilling above Tooru’s.

“Side pocket of my duffle bag,” Tooru gasps out against the sting of the bite.

Kuroo lifts himself onto his elbows to look down at Tooru. “Are you sure?”

“Duffle bag. Side pocket.”

Kuroo rolls off him and off the bed, walking over to Tooru’s bag quickly. Tooru shivers with the loss of heat and tries to steady his breathing.

He didn’t _plan_ on this happening, but he didn’t rule it out, either, so he’s glad that he came prepared, for once.

His breathing isn’t much steadier when Kuroo returns to him. His weight settles against him all at once, lips coming down on his own to stir heat through his body again and Kuroo kisses him like he’s the most important thing in the world.

Tooru can’t stand the layers between them, especially not when he knows what Kuroo looks like underneath his shirt, and he pushes up so that he can yank Kuroo’s shirt off, breaking the kiss only long enough to work the fabric over Kuroo’s head.

He swallows the moan Kuroo makes when Tooru drags his fingers along the smooth skin of Kuroo’s back with his mouth as he deepens the kiss, tongue sliding against Kuroo’s in a smooth glide.

Kuroo moves quickly, all patience gone as he divests Tooru of his shirt, pressing him back onto the bed so that he can settle between his hips again. Tooru eagerly helps him slide his pants down, before Kuroo does the same for Tooru and they’re both free of clothes, the click of a small cap echoing into the quiet around them.

Tooru groans and tugs at the strands of Kuroo’s hair at the first pull of a slick hand against his length. The heat rips through him and he feels like each drag of Kuroo’s hand, each steady roll of his hips, ignites a burn deep in his bones.

Kuroo breaks the kiss, lips trailing down the smooth lines of Tooru’s chest as he sucks marks into the skin. His fingers slide away from his length and down between his legs, fingers teasing him slowly before pressing in. Tooru gasps, tangles his fingers in Kuroo’s hair, the sheets, wherever he can get a hold on something as the sensation of being filled, even a little, causes need to spark up his spine and across his skin.

“ _Tetsu_ ,” he whines as Kuroo drags two fingers in and out in a steady, languid pace.

Kuroo moves back up, face hovering over Tooru and watching each gasp and flinch of pleasure as it passes across Tooru’s face. Kuroo leans down to mouth kisses along Tooru’s ear, tongue sliding along the shell of his ear before he sucks the earlobe between his lips. “Tooru,” he whispers softly, voice gentle as he continues to move his fingers.

Tooru is fairly certain that the only response he gives is a whimper as Kuroo withdraws his fingers. The loss is staggering, and Tooru feels the abrupt halt to the build of heat and pressure in his lower stomach, the overwhelming sense of emptiness and longing to be filled.

He doesn’t wait long as there is another click of the bottle in the silence and then Kuroo’s slick heat is pressing against him and Kuroo is reaching up with one hand to brush his fingers along Tooru’s cheekbone, his eyes fluttering shut as he slides into Tooru with one easy stroke.

Tooru gasps, forces himself to relax around Kuroo, and adjusts to the feeling of being full. Kuroo waits, pressing slow, sweet kisses against his lips as he adjusts around him. Tooru shifts, his legs coming up to press against Kuroo’s hips, encouraging him to move.

Kuroo’s pace is slow, languid even, and Tooru feels the coil of heat in his veins start to gradually wind tighter as Kuroo increases his pace, thrust by thrust.

Tooru feels the heat coiling in his veins, the desire shuddering though him and sparking to a new intensity as Kuroo shifts slightly to slide deeper with each thrust until he’s scraping through Tooru at _just_ the right angle. Tooru moans against Kuroo’s cheek, too lost in the sensations of Kuroo’s mouth against his neck, the steady but insistent way he moves inside him.

“Tetsurou, _please_ ,” Tooru begs, not even sure what he’s asking for.

Kuroo grabs Tooru’s leg, hand gripping him firmly behind his knee, and presses his leg up higher around his waist, allowing him to sink deeper into Tooru and _this_ is what he needs, he thinks, as he drags his fingers down Kuroo’s back hard enough to leave red furrows in his smooth skin.

Kuroo is moaning against the skin of his neck, half formed sentences and barely coherent words slipping from his lips to spill across Tooru’s skin as he thrusts into Tooru, each snap of his hips causing the pressure in Tooru’s abdomen to rise higher and hotter until he’s spilling hot and hard between them.

Kuroo’s hips stutter as Tooru spasms and clenches around him, a choked sort of moan spilling out of him as he moans, “ _Tooru_ ,” against the skin of his neck. Kuroo thrusts once, twice, three more times before he’s shaking, body shuddering as he spills inside of Tooru.

The night is quiet, their breathing the only sound in the silence of the room. Kuroo’s hand relaxes its hold on Tooru’s leg, sliding up along his hip, ribs, to tangle in the strands of his hair and pull his head over so that Kuroo can place lazy, soft kisses against his lips. Kuroo pulls out slowly, as gently as he can, before getting up with a quiet “I’ll be right back,” as he leaves Tooru prone and limp on the bed.

Kuroo returns a moment later with a damp washcloth and cleans them both up swiftly before crawling back in bed and gathering Tooru up in his arms.

“Tetsu?” Tooru asks sleepily.

“Mmm?” Kuroo sounds half asleep already as he presses a lingering kiss to Tooru’s forehead, inhaling the scent of his hair as he buries his nose into the soft waves of Tooru’s hair.

“Don’t leave me,” he says quietly into the skin of Kuroo’s chest.

Kuroo’s hand strokes soothing circles into Tooru’s back. “I’ll stay with you as long as I can.”

It’s not a promise of forever, but Tooru will take what he can get, a sleepy sense of determination to hold on to Kuroo for as long as possible washing over him in the interlude between drowsiness and sleep.

As they slip into sleep, tangled up in one another, Tooru has enough time to think, _I’m going to find a way to keep him with me,_ before sleep claims him completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sinner
> 
>  
> 
> you can find me on [Tumblr](https://mysoulrunswithwolves.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/wolfstar_soul)


	4. i'm begging you to keep on haunting me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tooru wants to shout, “can’t you see that we’re mourning here” and considers it a huge achievement that he doesn’t, just follows behind Kuroo as he walks over to the table. Kuroo’s hands settle on Tooru’s arms when he wraps them around his waist from behind, pressing his cheek to the soft material of Kuroo’s sweater against his shoulder blade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a terrible person for the things I do to Oikawa Tooru. 
> 
>  
> 
> That is all.

Tooru wakes slowly.

As a general rule, he doesn’t like to be rushed into consciousness in the mornings. He likes to wake slow and easy, often letting the morning sun ease him to full awareness.

He decides, fairly quickly, that Kuroo is the exception to this rule.

The first thing he’s aware of is the body pressed against his, the sensation of warm skin against warm skin.

The first thought he has is that he only has four days left to break a curse and find a way to keep Kuroo with him.

His eyes snap open and he inhales sharply.

“Bad dream?”

Kuroo’s voice is deep and rough with sleep, which Tooru is more than okay with, and Kuroo nuzzles into the back of Tooru’s neck, arms winding around him tightly.

“No, just a bad thought.”

“Mmmmm,” Kuroo hums, still sounding half asleep. “What about?”

“I’m a bit worried that I won’t manage to break this curse and then i’ll have to wait an entire year to take another crack at it,” Tooru mumbles, aware that this admission is going to spark a conversation he doesn’t want to have this early in the morning, after the night they’ve had.

“No,” Kuroo says, rising up on one elbow to hover over Tooru. “If we don’t solve this in the next four days, I want you to forget about me.”

And there it is.

Tooru works his way around to face Kuroo so that when he asks him “Why _not_ ,” he can do it to his face.

“Because I don’t want you to waste your time on me.” Kuroo speaks firmly, but Tooru can see the lingering pain and loneliness in his eyes.

Tooru reaches up, places a hand to the side of Kuroo’s face. “How long am I going to have to show you that I don’t _care._ ”

Kuroo tries to interject, but Tooru talks over him.

“Kuroo, I don’t care how many years it takes, or how hard it is, I am _going_ to break this curse and free you.” _And then keep you with me_.

He doesn’t say the last part, but it seems to hover in the air between them all the same like a promise made between two souls.

Kuroo sighs. “I can’t talk you out of this, can I?” He presses a soft kiss to Tooru’s lips.

“Can you catch a falling star and put it in your pocket?” Tooru asks, waxing poetic in what feels like a poetic moment.

Kuroo pulls back a bit, stares at him in confusion. “I’m not sure I understand the question?”

Tooru rolls his eyes. “You are so behind on _everything_.”

“Hey,” laughs Kuroo, playfully messing up Tooru’s bedhead. “You try keeping up with society each year when you only have twelve days to do so.”

An idea hums to life in Tooru’s mind. “Wait, have you ever seen a movie?”

Kuroo looks at him in confusion for a moment before saying, “Like, a moving picture?”

Tooru flies out of bed, rushing over to his duffel bag and rumaging around for his laptop. It takes a second for his body to catch up with the sudden flurry of movement, but when it does he realizes that he’s still naked and it is _very_ cold. He throws on the first pair of underwear he comes across in his bag and a soft pair of sweatpants.

Laptop in hand, he manages to grab Kuroo’s clothes and his shirt from last night on his way back to the bed. Kuroo murmurs his thanks, and Tooru begins searching through files on his laptop while Kuroo works his way into his sweats and shirt without getting out of bed. Tooru has a great sense of appreciation for the skill that requires.

“Are you going to tell me what you’re doing, or...?” Kuroo trails off as he wraps his arms around Tooru and rests his head on Tooru’s shoulder.

“We’re going to stay in bed today.”

“Oh?”

Tooru doesn’t need to look at Kuroo to know he’s smirking at him. “Yes. I have so many movies to show you in so little time.”

“We’re going to watch movies...all day?”

“Do you have anything better to do?” This time Tooru does pause his searching to turn around and eye Kuroo, wondering if he’d rather be somewhere else.

Kuroo takes the opportunity to press a soft kiss to the side of his head. “I don’t want to be anywhere else but right next to you.”

Tooru smiles and presses a lingering kiss to Kuroo’s lips. “You sap.”

Kuroo chuckles softly. “You like it.”

Tooru just hums and raises an eyebrow in response, turning back to his laptop. After a few more seconds of searching, he finds the movie he’s looking for in his videos and starts it, burrowing under the covers and up against Kuroo as the opening credits start playing.

Kuroo pulls him closer until his back is flush with Kuroo’s chest, Kuroo propping his head up on several pillows so that he can see over Tooru’s head.

“What is this movie called?” he asks, fingers tracing idle circles in the skin of Tooru’s hip under his shirt.

“ _Ghost_ ,” Tooru says, trying not to sound too pleased.

There’s a beat of silence before Kuroo says, “I cannot believe you.”

“It’s a good movie, okay? It’s desperately romantic.”

Tooru can feel the eye roll Kuroo gives him without actually seeing it.

 

They end up pausing the movie halfway through because Tooru is _starving_ and by the sounds of it, Kuroo is too.

They both wander down to the kitchen for breakfast, Tooru wrapped in one of the extra blankets in his room to ward off the chill of the inn. Kuroo’s halfway through a batch of pancakes when Suga walks in the back door, Hinata in tow, arms full of groceries for Kuroo and Tooru, probably.

“Oh,” he says, eyes widening like he wasn’t expecting to see either of them in the kitchen. “Good morning.”

Tooru beams up at Suga. “Good morning to you too, Suga.”

Kuroo doesn’t say anything, but he does nod at Hinata in greeting.

Tooru doesn’t think much of the way Suga is eyeing them both intently until he says, “Interesting night?” with such a measured amount of sweetness and wide-eyed innocence that Tooru immediately knows that he _knows_.

“You could say that, I guess,” Kuroo says from his position by the stove. “It felt pretty natural to me, though.”

Tooru feels warmth blossom between his ribs at the wink Kuroo sneaks his way.

Suga rolls his eyes.

“How are things going with Hinata?” Tooru asks sweetly in return, just to see the way Suga’s face floods pink.

“I’m right here, jerk,” shouts Hinata, who has been quietly putting away groceries until this moment.

“Ooooo, sorry Hinata,” Tooru says, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. “I must not have seen you when you walked in. These counters are kinda high, being built for adults and all.”

Tooru would probably feel bad about saying this if Kuroo didn’t burst out into loud peals of laughter.

“I’m not _that_ short,” Hinata shouts, as if volume can make up for height.

Suga giggles, and Tooru can’t help but laugh along with Suga’s infectious laugh. Even Hinata smiles a bit.

“Sorry, babe,” breathes Suga between bouts of laughter.

‘ _Babe?’_ Tooru mouths at Kuroo, who is watching this play out while somehow managing not to burn the pancakes. Kuroo just shrugs.

“You’re pretty small,” Suga continues, speaking easier now that he’s not laughing quite as hard.

Hinata pouts as Suga wraps his arms around him.

“Don’t worry Hinata,” Kuroo says softly, finally chiming in. “Suga’s shorter than me _and_ Oikawa, so you’re not the only small one in the room.”

“I supply you with _food,_ I run your _inn,_ and this is how you repay me?” Suga manages to look betrayed and aghast all at once, and Tooru admires the amount of skill that takes to pull that big of a guilt trip.

Kuroo just shrugs. “You know you love it.” He stacks the finished pancakes on two plates, dumps syrup on them, and hands a plate and fork to Tooru. “If you’ll excuse us, we have a movie to finish.”

Suga blinks his gaze away from Hinata, who is still wrapped in his arms, to say, “Wait, you got Tetsu to watch a movie?”

Tooru shrugs. “It wasn’t that hard, really.”

Suga does a stunning impression of a fish out of water, mouth gaping soundlessly for words. “I’ve been trying to get him to watch movies for _years._ ”

Tooru throws a smirk over his shoulder as Kuroo grabs his hand to tow him from the room. “What can I say, I have a pretty face.”

Suga grumbles something under his breath that’s too quiet for them to hear, but they don’t miss Hinata’s loud laugh as it follows them down the hall and up the stairs.

 

Once they’re back in Tooru’s room, steaming stacks of syrup-covered pancakes plated and in hand, Tooru resumes the movie.

Kuroo is nice enough not to tease Tooru _too_ much for the way he tears up at the end.

 

Tooru feels the pressure looming behind them, feels the swelling wave of panic and stress nearing ever closer and just decides it will have to wait like, one day.

All he wants is one, blissful day with Kuroo before either of them has to think about breaking his curse and the inevitable goodbye they face.

Once they’ve finished _Ghost_ and Kuroo has left to take the empty plates back downstairs, Tooru shucks off his clothes and runs a shower, standing under the hot stream of water as it warms through the chill deep in his bones.

According to the weather app on his phone, it’s nearly seven below and no matter how many blankets and socks he puts on, this inn is still drafty and it’s _always_ cold.  He’s never been more grateful for hot showers.

The bathroom door opens, then shuts again, and Tooru has a brief, intense flash of panic at the sound before Kuroo steps into the shower with him.

“Thought you might like some company,” Kuroo says, stepping under the stream of water to push Tooru up against the tiled wall of the shower.

“Kuroo,” Tooru whines, wrapping his arms around Kuroo’s neck. “You’re going to get soap in my eyes.”

Kuroo just rolls his eyes before pressing in close to kiss Tooru, slow and easy. It’s a languid, unhurried kiss that Tooru sighs into happily, at ease with the way Kuroo’s warm skin is pressing and sliding against his.

“I’m never going to actually get clean if you don’t stop this,” Tooru says as Kuroo bites and sucks his way to the skin of Tooru’s neck and shoulder.

“You’re going to want to wait until I’m finished with you to try and get clean,” Kuroo says calmly, hands wandering down Tooru’s hips.

Tooru hardens alarmingly fast as Kuroo continues to detail what it is, exactly, that he’s going to need to clean up from.

Kuroo is really quite dirty, for a man so old.

Tooru moans so loudly when Kuroo takes him against the shower wall that he hopes, desperately, that Suga and Hinata aren’t in the inn anymore. But the hope is fleeting and Tooru really only has enough functionality of his brain to think about it for all of two seconds before he’s entirely focused on the way Kuroo moves inside him.

It’s so subtle at first, the way it builds slowly and quietly, but Tooru begins to realize that what’s rising and coiling inside of him isn’t just the tension before release, but a swell of emotion too.

He almost laughs, when he realizes.

Instead of a laugh, he moans Kuroo’s name loudly as he shifts the angle and begins making each thrust count where it matters most.

Kuroo bites his neck, just below his jaw, and Tooru understands that he’s _known_ for a while, probably since Kuroo first kissed him in the parlor.

Tooru whines and brings Kuroo’s lips up to his, tangling his fingers in the wet mess of Kuroo’s hair and for him the kiss is desperate, full of longing and need as his legs tighten where they’re wrapped around Kuroo’s waist.

Tooru realizes, just after he comes hot and hard between them, that he’s finally learned how to love.

All it took was someone he can’t keep.

As Kuroo chases him over the edge, Tooru feels an overwhelming rush of emotion, each feeling flowing through him as fast as the hot tracks of water are leaking from his eyes. He pours all of it into the kiss, his sadness, desperation, devastation, hope, and the overwhelming amount of love he’s managed to accumulate over the last nine days for a ghost of a man he can’t have.

Kuroo’s hands move from where they were supporting Tooru, and as Tooru lowers his legs until he’s standing on his own again, Kuroo runs his hands up his sides and over his shoulders to cradle his face between his palms.

Tooru sobs into the kiss when Kuroo pulls out, and Kuroo pulls away from him, studying the way his face crumbles apart without Kuroo’s lips to keep him glued together.

“Hey,” Kuroo whispers, voice barely audible over the white noise of water hitting tile. “Oikawa, _Tooru_ , what’s wrong?”

His thumbs are tracing the line of Tooru’s cheekbones, wiping away tears as they fall.

“N-nothing,” he stutters, digging his fingers into the firm muscles of Kuroo’s shoulders. “Just g-got some s-soap in my eyes.”

Kuroo snorts in amusement but doesn’t move away. “Oikawa, you don’t have soap anywhere on you.”

Tooru manages a weak smile, looks up into the warm golden eyes in front of him. “I j-just, realized that I d-don’t want to have to let you g-go.”

Kuroo’s eyes sadden, and even if it’s not the whole truth, not every emotion that Tooru is feeling in this moment, it’s enough for Kuroo to tisk and pull him close, letting the warm spray wash over them both.

***

Kuroo gets them both washed, dried, and back in bed to spend the rest of the day watching movies on Tooru’s laptop. They don’t talk about how when they wake up tomorrow there will only be three days left.

Instead, Tooru kisses Kuroo anytime he feels in danger of saying something that neither of them are ready to hear.

They spend a lot of the day kissing.

In the evening after Kuroo has made them more food and Tooru’s enthusiasm for movies begins to wane, they huddle back under the blankets and find other ways to keep warm in the growing chill of the inn.

The sex is slow this time; gentle and tender in a way that makes Tooru’s eyes brim with tears as Kuroo moves above him, eyes never leaving his face and fingers wound tightly together on the mattress.

After, as they lay tangled together between the sheets, Kuroo’s fingers still laced with Tooru’s, he finally surrenders to the emotions that have been welling inside him all day.

“Tetsurou,” he whispers into the stillness between them.

“Yes, Tooru?”

“I love you,” he sighs, letting the words drift away from him. Warmth spills from his eyes faster, although he hasn’t stopped crying for a while now, so he isn’t sure that the distinction matters all that much.

Kuroo pulls him close, gently guides Tooru’s face to his so that Tooru is blinking steadily through his tears into the warm serenity of Kuroo’s eyes. “I know, Tooru.”

He holds Tooru while he sobs, and when they finally slip into sleep it’s in the comfort of one another’s arms.

***

Tooru wakes the next morning in Kuroo’s arms, the inn quiet and still around them.

He doesn’t wake Kuroo, just watches him sleep and tries to memorize every detail of his face. The way his nose slopes straight and strong, the slice of cheekbones under tan skin, the firm line of his jaw, even in sleep.

He knows he still has three days left, three whole days to learn every expression and gesture, but it won’t be enough.

It makes sense now, why he’s waited this long to let himself fall in love.

It's too painful to do it more than once.

 

When they finally wander down for food, it’s to find Hinata and Suga hunched over the kitchen table, looking over plans for the Christmas Eve party Kuroo relented to have at the inn.

“Oh good,” Suga says, looking up from their notes. “Tetsu I need you to approve these plans before we start buying the food and booze.”

Tooru wants to shout, “can’t you see that we’re _mourning_ here” and considers it a huge achievement that he doesn’t, just follows behind Kuroo as he walks over to the table. Kuroo’s hands settle on Tooru’s arms when he wraps them around his waist from behind, pressing his cheek to the soft material of Kuroo’s sweater against his shoulder blade.

He tunes out the conversation and focuses on the way Kuroo’s breathing is slow and steady against his chest, to the regular, even beats of his heart through his spine. He wonders if he'll ever be able to recover if he loses Kuroo.

“...wondering if Oikawa could help with that.”

Tooru tunes back into the conversation at the mention of his name. Kuroo twists around slightly, lifting his arm as he does so to bring it around Tooru’s waist. Tooru resettles, arms still around Kuroo’s waist, head resting lightly where Kuroo’s neck meets his shoulder.

“Help with what?” He asks quietly, more focused on Kuroo’s arm around his waist than the conversation.

“Decorating the inn, adding some Christmas cheer,” Suga says cheerfully, smiling up at him from where he’s seated at the table.

Tooru doesn’t have enough energy to say anything other than “sure,” a bit dully, and Suga eyes him more closely.

“Oikawa are you okay?”

Hinata also looks up at him, eyes filling with concern. “You don’t look so good, Oikawa-san.”

“I’m just, a bit frustrated by this curse,” he says. Technically, it’s not a lie. It’s just not the whole truth.

They’re both polite enough to pretend to believe him.

***

Tooru spends the day before the party wrapped up in Kuroo’s arms and several blankets, pouring over the journals, sure that he’s missed _something_. Kuroo helps him stay calm, reminding him to breathe and helping him keep his breathing slow as he rubs soothing circles into his back.

Tooru doesn’t panic often, but he has three bouts of anxiety in as many hours that day, and Kuroo calms him every time, helping him slow his breathing by keeping his own slow and steady against Tooru’s back.

Tooru wonders, briefly, where he learned how to do that.

 

He tries not to scream when he doesn’t find anything new in the journals.

***

Tetsurou has to drag Oikawa out of bed the next day, has to force him to eat something and drag him into a shower.

He doesn’t know _why_ Oikawa waits until after their shower to jump him, but he goes along anyway, freely giving Oikawa what he needs, even if he can’t tell him what he really needs to hear.

 _I love you,_ he thinks, with every slow thrust, every gentle touch or brush of skin. He thinks, hopes, that Oikawa knows, but he can’t be sure.

It’s the quite moments, that really do him in.

There were so many times over the last two days when those three words were on the tip of his tongue, just waiting to slip out. Moments when it was just them, breathing in each other’s space. The moments when Oikawa’s brow would furrow in concentration as he tried, yet again, to solve the problems Kuroo has spent ninety-three years trying to solve.

The only thing that keeps him from saying those three words is knowing how much more it will hurt when they fail and Oikawa loses him.

 

Suga has, truly, outdone himself this year.

The ballroom of the inn has been transformed into a frosted, wintery scene filled with twinkle lights and mistletoe strung around the room.

He’s already caught Suga with his tongue down Hinata’s throat twice this evening, so he wonders how much of that mistletoe serves as a convenient excuse to publicly ravish his boyfriend.

By the looks of it, most of the town locals have shown up, families in tow. Soft jazz filters through the room, and children spin in circles under the lights, falling over in dizzy heaps as they giggle, unburdened and carefree.

Tetsurou keeps an eye on the stairs as he watches people talk and laugh together. His vigilance is rewarded a few moments later when Oikawa finally makes his entrance, stunning in a royal blue suit, white shirt, and skinny red tie.

Tetsurou doubts that Oikawa can even sit comfortably, his pants are tailored so fitted. His legs look incredible though, and Tetsurou has to brush aside the urge to grab him by the tie and drag him to an empty parlor to have his way with him.

Instead, he walks over to him, raises an eyebrow and holds out a hand, entreating. “Would you care to dance?” He asks, pleased when a small smile works its way onto Oikawa’s face and he slips his slender fingers into Tetsurou’s waiting palm.

He watches the light glint in the brown of Oikawa’s eyes as they turn slowly under the lights. He fights the urge to whisper those three words into Oikawa’s ear and he holds him close, not even trying to keep time with the music.

He can feel himself weakening, and he pulls back, takes a breath, opens his mouth.

“Mind if I cut in?” Suga asks him, already pulling Oikawa away from him.

 _Yes._ “No, not at all,” he says, walking back to a more secluded corner of the room.

He watches Suga and Oikawa spin together under the light, watches as Oikawa breaks out into bright, happy laughter at something Suga says. The warmth in his heart grows, expands until he feels like he might burst.

A familiar head of blonde hair flashes in the corner of his eye.

He turns slowly, sees the figure retreating out the front door of the inn, not bothering to open the door, just walking through it.

He follows without a second thought, and with each step he feels himself stepping further and further into the past until he’s standing next to Kenma and Keiji on the front porch.

He’s about to see himself die.

“He should have been back by now,” Kenma mutters anxiously, pacing right in front of Tetsurou.

“He’s still got time, don’t give up yet,” Keiji says evenly, but his brow is furrowed with concern and he doesn’t look much calmer than Kenma.

Tetsurou waits with them, and even if they can’t see it, he can see the moment he comes into view, a dark shadow between the trees.

“Kenma, it’s going to be okay. He loves you, and he’ll come back for you.” Keiji pulls Kenma into the embrace he saw from the trees, and it’s not what he thought it was all those years ago.

For the first time in ninety-three years, Tetsurou sees what happens next.

He sees the looming shadow behind him, the rock that crunches into his skull, the way his body slumps quietly into the snow.

The shadow drops the rock into the snow and dashes away.

Tetsurou rushes back into the inn as the past melts away around him. He spots Oikawa in the middle of the ballroom, but before he can say anything the scene bleeds back into the muted colors of days long past, and the ballroom turns into the dining area it was when the inn was fully booked, people eating and talking quietly.

Kenma’s blonde head disappears into a side parlor and Tetsurou follows after him.

“It’s not _fair_ ,” Kenma wails quietly, burying his face into Keiji’s vest. “Tetsurou deserved to be _happy_.”

“I know, Kenma, I know,” Keiji consoles, wrapping his arms around Kenma tightly as he hugs him.

“All I want is for him to have another chance at life. To know what it means to _live_.” Kenma is shaking with quiet sobs. “He didn’t deserve to _die_ , alone and cold. It’s not _fair_.”

Keiji looks pained as he continues to console Kenma. “I’m sure he’ll find happiness in the next life.”

“I hope so,” Kenma whimpers.

This time, as the memory fades away, Tetsurou walks back to the ballroom, slowly putting the pieces together.

He bumps into Oikawa in the hallway, Kenma’s blond head still hovering in the corner of his vision.

***

Tooru goes looking for Kuroo the second Suga releases him. Being apart for two dances is already too long to be away from him when they only have hours left.

He wanders into the hallway and collides with Kuroo almost immediately as he’s coming out of a parlor.

Kuroo inhales sharply. “Oikawa, I was _wrong_.”

Tooru feels like he’s just jumped into the middle of a conversation he isn’t prepared for. “About what?”

“It’s not a curse, it’s a _gift_.” Kuroo says, eyes alight with understanding.

“What?” Tooru is still having a hard time following, clearly missing something.

“Kenma, he’s the one keeping me here,” Kuroo says excitedly. “He’s giving me another chance at life.”

He tempers his hopes, unwilling to start getting excited. Tooru can see him now, his tiny blonde head peeking around a door frame down the hall. “Okay,” he hedges. “But if that’s Kenma, then who is _that?”_ Tooru points behind them at the ominous shadow looming at the other end of the hall.

Kuroo turns around and blanches. “I-I don’t know.”

“Oh well that’s just _great,”_ snipes Tooru, the shadow rushing toward them.

They both turn and rush for the stairs. He knows that whatever this is, it needs to be kept away from the people still laughing and dancing in the ballroom.

As they clear the second-floor landing, the shadow cuts them off, trapping them between the stairs leading up to the third floor and the ones leading back down.

“Who are you?” Tooru asks, sick of running away from ghosts.

“I think its whoever killed me.” Kuroo looks pale still.

Tooru watches the shadow warily, but it doesn’t move, just stands there, ominous and foreboding. Kenma appears next to them, silent and not saying anything, and points at the figure.

Its form wavers, shifts, and then solidifies into a man with silver shot dark hair that’s styled up and away from his face.

“Bokuto?” Kuroo breathes, shock coloring his tone. “Did, did you kill me?”

The man in front of them, Bokuto, hangs his head.

“I didn’t want to, Kuroo.” he looks pained, haunted.

“What happened?” Kuroo asks. Tooru can’t read his tone, but he doesn’t sound…mad. More curious, than anything.

“After you left,” begins Bokuto, “the Nekoma called me back. They said you were a lose end that had to be tied up. Said that if I didn’t, they’d send someone after you, and once you were gone, they’d go after Yukie and our little girl.”

Kuroo closes his eyes. “She was your everything.”

Bokuto has tears in his eyes. “I didn’t want to, you’re my best friend, but it was my _little girl,_ Kuroo.”

Tooru watches as Kuroo nods in understanding.

“So, why are you here?” Tooru hears himself ask. "We know that Kenma is keeping Kuroo here, what's keeping  _you_ here?"

Bokuto glances at him before turning back to Kuroo. “I…I think I need to be forgiven, i-in order to move on.”

Kuroo looks up at him, and Tooru can see the bright of unshed tears in his eyes as he says, “I forgive you, Bokuto. It’s all in the past now. Go in peace, cousin.”

Bokuto’s countenance shines brightly as he smiles, big and happy, before fading away in a soft wash of golden light.

Kuroo releases a heavy sigh.

Kenma is still standing off to Tooru’s right. Kuroo turns to face him.

“Thank you, Kenma,” Kuroo says, smiling warmly.

Kenma nods once, a small smile on his lips, before he too, fades away.

“What, was that all about?” Tooru asks, feeling a few steps behind and reeling from the sheer number of ghosts in this inn.

“I walked back into the past tonight, and when I came back out of the memories I was shown, I realized two things.” Kuroo grabs his hand, lacing their fingers together and walking up to the third floor toward Tooru’s room. “First, it wasn’t what was keeping me here, but _who_. I figured that the dark spirit must be whoever killed me, so weighted down by their guilt that they can’t move on until their unfinished business was resolved.” He pauses briefly as they enter Tooru’s room and he sits on the bed, pulling Tooru after him.

“Secondly, Kenma was the one who kept sending me back here in the days leading up to Christmas. His one wish was for me to get a chance to live again.” He looks down at their joined hands. “Oikawa, it took me ninety-three years to remember what it is to truly _live_ , and it’s because of you that I finally learned how.” He reaches up and brushes a tear off Tooru’s face.

He hadn’t realized he was crying.

“Thank you, Tooru.” Kuroo gazes at him tenderly, pressing their foreheads together. “You showed me how wonderful it is to be alive. You broke the curse.”

Tooru sobs, a wet, broken sound. “You’re welcome,” he manages to say, right before Kuroo leans the rest of the way in to kiss him through his tears.

Kuroo scoots back to the middle of the bed, pulling Tooru with him until they’re wrapped around each other.

“Stay with me,” Tooru whispers into Kuroo’s chest.

“I’m right here, Tooru.” A gentle kiss lands on his forehead, but it’s not the promise he was looking for.

Tooru falls asleep in the circle of Kuroo’s arms.

 

When he wakes up the next morning, the space next to him is cold, and he doesn’t need to search the inn to know that Kuroo is gone.

***

The snow globe lands on his desk with a _thump_.

“Chikara said I had to give this too you, that it was the least we could do.”

Tooru squeals in excitement, watching the specks of glitter float down over the scene frozen behind glass.

“You really don’t deserve him, Daichi,” Tooru says, shaking the globe again to start the glitter whirling.

“He reminds me of this daily,” Daichi gruffly replies. “Anyway, thanks for taking care of things while we were gone.”

“Anytime.”

“Oh, and good job on getting a buyer for the Kuroo inn.”

Tooru looks up in surprise. “What?”

Daichi blinks at him. “Two buyers came forward, pooled their money to get joint-ownership of the inn.” He looks down at the folder in his hand. “Our notes say Sugawara Koushi and Hinata Shouyou own it now.”

Tooru smiles. “That’s wonderful.”

 

Tooru flicks on the lights to his empty, cold apartment. The silence has never bothered him before.

Now it’s all he notices. The spaces where Kuroo belongs but just…isn’t.

 

He’s making dinner, a pathetic, sad meal for one, when there’s a knock at his door.

He opens it without checking to see who it is first, and as his eyes travel up a pair of long, lean legs, up a firm torso, and into a pair of warm, golden eyes, he feels the crooked part of his life right itself and fit back into place.

Kuroo smiles at him, walks right into his apartment and slams the door shut behind him, moving forward to capture Tooru’s lips against his own.

“I love you, Tooru,” Kuroo says, breaking away to look Tooru in the eye. “I’ve been dying to tell you that for a while now.”

The words were a long time coming, and all the sweeter for it.

“I’m ready to start living again,” he continues, “and I’d like to do it by your side, if you’ll have me.”

Tooru takes a moment to breathe it all in. Kuroo, here in his arms, _real_ and tangible and _alive_. His fingers wind their way into the black tangle of Kuroo’s hair. He replays the words, relishes in the warmth he feels at knowing that Kuroo loves him back, that he doesn’t have to wonder if he’ll ever find another love like theirs.

“Well it’s about time you showed up.”

Kuroo smirks, rubs his nose against Tooru’s playfully. “I’m trying to be romantic here, Tooru.”

Tooru closes his eyes and presses a slow, warm kiss to Kuroo’s lips.

“Welcome home, Tetsurou.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Number of times I made Oikawa cry: 5  
> Times Oikawa made me cry: 1
> 
> Thanks for reading!!
> 
> Comments, kudos etc are much appreciated! <3
> 
>  
> 
> As always, you can find me here: [Tumblr](https://mysoulrunswithwolves.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/wolfstar_soul)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will be done in a week or two. I've pretty much got the whole thing written, so updates will come every few days.
> 
> I love cheesy hallmark movies and how they inspire me to write equally cheesy, fluff filled fic. It's a good break from my usual angst *cough* [lovebites](http://archiveofourown.org/series/565579) *cough*
> 
>  
> 
> As always, you can find me here: [Tumblr](https://mysoulrunswithwolves.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/wolfstar_soul)


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